


Piledriver Waltz

by officialfoxsquadron



Series: fox 'verse [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amputation, Blood and Gore, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Infertility, Medical Procedures, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prison, Starvation, Suicidal Thoughts, Survivor Guilt, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Torture, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-05-04 00:24:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 51,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5312687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/officialfoxsquadron/pseuds/officialfoxsquadron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lot of bad things happened after the Battle of Hoth. Terrible things. Unspeakable things. And now Luke Skywalker must deal with them alone, with his best friend missing, the woman he loves presumed dead, and her sister gone. He throws himself into his work and drowns his demons with alcohol. However, the unspeakable has a way to find him again, and Luke's father's obsession reaches dangerous and terrible levels when his nightmares turn true.<br/>Takes place four months after the events of Nowhere to Run until the end of Return of the Jedi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a sequel to a previous work, "Nowhere to Run," and is the third in a series of works. To understand certain characters and situations, read "The Dock of the Bay," and then "Nowhere to Run."  
> Although the Star Wars universe itself is not mine, my original characters, expanded canon, Coruscanti/Lower and original worlds _are_ my own and my intellectual property. Taking inspiration or blatantly taking elements without my explicit permission is stealing.

Atone for your sins.

That’s what Luke Skywalker assumed he was doing, hitting the alarm on his comm with his fake right hand, the room still dark from his porthole into space.

He grunted, throbbing pain from his right hand coming from nowhere as the clock fell off of the small stand.

Phantom pain, he remembered. The medics said it would go away in time, be not much more than a memory. But now, it hurt like hell, like nothing before.

He hated his right hand. Hated it. He wished desperately he were left-handed, he thought, tugging off his sleep pants and putting on clothes from a bag, packed haphazardly. The right hand felt unnatural, gross, immoral. A reminder of everything his father did to him.

Father. It had always meant a hero, an ally, a seemingly mystical part of the Force watching over him. Now he knew the truth. His father was a sadistic killer, the man that blew up a whole planet, the man that killed Lottie’s father without mercy. And he wanted Luke to join him.

It almost made Luke laugh as he spit out his toothpaste, looking at himself in the mirror of the small fresher in his cabin. He looked, for the first time in his life, tired. He felt it too, the pain in his body, the emptiness in his mind.

“Luke Skywalker, too energized for ‘is own good.”

The voice of Charlotte Reynard popped in his mind, and he shook it out. He hadn’t seen her, not even while he was recovering in the med bay. He had assumed she was just busy, but a thousand thoughts plagued his mind, chewing away at him like termites.

He kept moving, his thoughts turning in his mind as he made his way to a debriefing.

She had kissed him. She had told him that her fathers would have loved him, the two most important men in her life. He knew, now, that couldn’t still be true.

_“No, Luke, I am your father.”_

She couldn’t love him now, shouldn’t. He nearly laughed at the possibility. Who could love a son of one of the most evil men in the galaxy, the one that beheaded the man that she had professed to love him?

And what if Vader wasn’t his father? What if he was bluffing? Because, if he wasn’t, that would mean Obi-Wan was lying, and he very well could lose two heroes in one, swift blow.

He made a sharp left, navigating the hallways of Home One without a second thought, brushing off people who wanted him to do things politely, but brusquely. He only agreed to this debriefing because Leia had asked him. She was so distraught, and she needed to hear what he had seen.

Not everything, though. He didn’t want to tell her about Vader, or anyone, really. Not yet. And he had gotten good at keeping secrets. He blamed Lottie for that one. He kept her secrets, and now, he would keep his.

“General?” Luke asked politely, peeking his head through the door. “Am I late?”

Dodonna looked up. He was a gruff man, with a salt-and-pepper beard and frown lines. “No, no. Come in.”

Luke sat across from Leia, who looked up at him with sad eyes. It wasn’t hard to tell she was devastated, but he didn’t say anything, he didn’t know how. How could he, he could barely understand this situation himself.

“Luke, let’s...start from the beginning. Where, exactly, did you go after the Battle of Hoth?”

Luke swallowed hard, looking at Leia and then turning to Dodonna. “The Dagobah system. I went for training.”

Dodonna began typing on his datapad, looking up to urge Luke to continue.

“Jedi training, I met someone there. I trained for four months, but then I received a vision through the Force. This is strictly classified, right?” Luke knew that what he said sounded foolish.

Dodonna nodded. “Please continue, Commander Skywalker.”

“It was of Han and Leia in Cloud City, in danger, dying. I knew I needed to go, even though I wasn’t finished with the training. I flew in my X-Wing and arrived there, but it all felt wrong. Bespin was a city, but it was too quiet, too peaceful. I went around with Artoo and I found them, Han and Leia. Han was in carbonite, being carried out to some ship, I don’t know, I didn’t see it. Leia was right behind me. She warned me it was a trap, but I didn’t listen. I went to the carbonite chamber and he was there.”

“Who was there?”

“Darth Vader. He wanted to take me in carbonite as well. For what reason, I don’t know. He said something about...joining him, helping him with the Empire. I think because I’m Force-sensitive, I really don’t know. I fought him, and then he pushed me off of a ledge, and I fell onto the weather vane. Leia found me, and she healed me, and now I’m here.”

“Is that when you lost your hand?”

“Yes, Darth Vader cut it off.”

“Is that all?”

Luke looked at Leia. He knew she couldn’t know he was lying. He didn’t know when he should tell her, or even if.

“Yes,” he said, looking at the two of them with finality.

“Dodonna, I must be going,” Leia said quickly, getting up from her chair. “I’ll see you later, Skywalker.”

“Yeah,” he replied, scratching at the nape of his neck.

“General?”

“You’re dismissed, Skywalker. I do believe that there are two men waiting for you outside.”

Luke glanced at the small window and saw the faces of Jax Collins and Wedge Antilles. He closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. It was so nice to see them again, two of his best friends.

“Thank you, General.”

He practically ran out the door, and both of them enveloped him in a hug, smiling and laughing.

“We thought you were dead,” Jax said breathlessly, walking him back to his room.

“Not dead,” Luke said, wrapping his arms over his two friends’ shoulders, “Just training.”

“How was it?” Wedge asked curiously. “Sorry, Jax listened in on your debriefing.”

“Nah, it’s cool. No, it was alright,” Luke said, as they turned and sat in his small quarters on the ship. “What have you guys been doing?”

“Nothing, really. It’s been weird, y’know, ever since,” Jax shrugged, looking at Wedge for validation, “Everything.”

“Everything?” Luke raised an eyebrow, sitting on his small cot. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, they didn’t tell you,” Wedge said, his eyes pitiful as he sat across from Luke. “I’m so sorry.”

“Wedge, Jax, what’s going on?”

“The Foxes,” Jax said. “Luke, both of them. They’re gone.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

"Gone? What do you mean,  _gone?!"_

Luke could barely even process that word, gone. It was too much. They  _had_ to be here. Things had gone so wrong, so quickly, so recently, that for both of the Reynard sisters to be so-called  _gone_ was impossible.

"We're sorry, Luke," Wedge said, shaking his head. "I barely understand it myself. Jax?"

Jax nodded, and crossed his arms, pacing around the room as he began to talk. "I was flying the Prophet, I was supposed to take them out and meet up at the rendezvous point. Lottie came first. She had her duffel bag, and something else, too. I didn't look. I haven't looked. She seemed...distraught, I think, is the best word for it. Confused, maybe. It was all very stranged. Pazima came second, with all her stuff too. She tried to calm Lottie down, but then Lottie ran from that ship. She said she had to get something. Paz ran after her. She said she would be back in ten minutes. After eleven, I came to the room. You know Paz. She's never late."

Jax sighed, and sat down next to Luke on his bed. "I carried her body back to the Prophet. Paz's body. We burned it. We...never found Lottie's."

"Lottie's what? Lottie's body?" Luke found his voice steadily rising. Jax had confirmed what he had, already known. Pazima was dead, of course. That's what he had meant by gone. But Lottie, Lottie couldn't possibly be dead. Couldn't.

Since he had arrived on the ship, things had felt off. Like someone was missing in the back of his mind, some presence that had been ripped violently after Hoth. He knew who that was now. Pazima. But Lottie, no, he didn't feel that. Maybe he could be fooling himself, but in his heart, he knew she couldn't be dead.

"Yes, her body. Luke, we're sorry. She's been missing ever since that day. She just got bumped to presumed dead last week."

"But she can't be dead. She isn't."

"How do you know? Was she on Bespin?" Wedge asked hopefully.

"What? No, no, or else I would have brought her home. No, I just...know."

Wedge sighed exasperatedly. "Luke, I can't exactly go on Jedi intuition here."

"Well, what other options do we have?"

"I've looked at ever single Imperial military base, every single Rebellion base, prisons, safehouses, hell, whorehouses. I checked some of the haunts that she and Paz used to use. Nothing. Luke, I'm sorry."

"No," he replied. "No, you're wrong."

"Computers don't lie," Wedge said, getting up from his chair and beginning to leave. "I'm sorry we're the ones that had to tell you this, Luke."

As soon as Wedge walked out of the door, Jax got up and turned to Luke. "Listen, I know you and Lottie were-"

"Whatever we were, it doesn't matter now," he said. "We have to find her."

"You're already trying to find Han, Luke," Jax pointed out. "Lottie's either dead or on some weird deep cover Fox thing that we can't know about."

"Faking her death so she can go undercover?" Luke raised his eyebrows. "That seems decidedly un-Lottie. She wouldn't do that without telling us."

"No offense, Luke, but it wouldn't really be the first bitch move the Foxes have pulled on us." He knelt to his knees, looking Luke in the eye. "Listen, when I said I didn't look before, I was lying. I totally looked. And let me tell you, whatever you think is going to happen between you two, it definitely won't know."

"I know, alright?!" Luke finally spat, anger from everything that had happened boiling and bubbling over. "Trust me, you ahve no idea how much I know that Lottie could never feel the same way that I do about her."

"Luke, it's not that she couldn't, it's that she-"

"Just...leave, Jax. Please. I need some time to myself."

Not apologizing for his outburst, Luke watched as Jax walked out of the room, shutting the door on his way out. Luke rolled back on the bed, holding his head as it started to pound.

He closed his eyes, and his thoughts instantly turned to the last time he had seen Lottie, when she had kissed him, told him of her fathers' approval of him. Everything had seemed so innocent then, neither of them sure of the future, but happy.

In a way, he wished she were dead. Dead was easier now. Now he didn't have that nagging bug in his mind, saying that she was alive, but just out of reach, and just hurting enough where he hurt.

Yes, he felt that too, she hurt. She was hurting, if she was alive. He wanted to comfort her, but he felt unworthy now. Darth Vader's son, comforting this woman of something that almost certainly stemmed from the Empire, from her past, from something his father may have done. She was the only woman who he felt he had really loved. Maybe it was some sort of puppy-dog, innocent, virginal love, but a love all the same. His father had taken everything from him when he told him who Luke really was. His best friend, Han. Lottie, the perpetual exception to every rule. Pazima, the steadfast presence of knowledge.

It hit him then, that Paz was dead. He loved Paz too, but not in that way. She had always been like an older sister to him, but still, in a way, an equal. Ever since his first mission, when he had saved her, they had had some sort of mutual respect, and it was nice. She would always have been one of his closest friends, and now, like Jax had said earlier, she was gone, would never come back for a funny quip, stop at his apartment for food and a meal. He would never find her sitting on Lottie's bed, braiding her sister's hair or both of them painting their nails, Lottie collapsing into a fit of giggles and turning beet red at something they had been discussing.

Tears stung at his eyes, and he pressed the remote and turned in his bed. Sleep washed over him as a comfort, and for a while, he could forget about the glaring absence of Pazima's presence and the glaring red that was Lottie's presence clinging onto dear life.


	3. Dream 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: stronger language than usual, violence

_Luke Skywalker awoke, gasping for breath, blinded by the stark white of a great nothingness. He was sitting in a black padded chair, and although there were no shackles at his wrists, he felt bound to it. As far as he could see, there was nothing in front of him, turning his head so he could try to see something._

_"You're awake."_

_He jumped as he turned to the source of his voice. Much to his surprise, Pazima Reynard sat across from him. She looked different than he remembered. Her hair was cut short and her eyes just a bit older, the tattoos on her skin fading. She wore utilitarian clothes, and sat in an identical chair, cross legged and eyeing him as she tapped her fingers gracefully on her chin._

_"You're dead," he said. It was more matter-of-fact than he expected, but he was more than a little shell-shocked to see the deceased Reynard sister across from him. Suddenly, he looked down as his right hand changed from fleshy to robotic. "I'm dreaming."_

_"The latter is true," Pazima replied. "As for your first statement," she mused, looking at her hand quizzically, "I'm afraid I can't remember. Which sister am I again?"_

_"Which sister?" Luke scoffed, hardly believing the words coming out of your mouth. "You're Pazima Reynard."_

_"Ah. You've been thinking about her lately," Pazima said, getting up from her chair and walking aimlessly. "Pazima."_

_"She-You died. You aren't her, are you? Why am I stuck in this chair?"_

_"Because I need you to listen to what I have to say. If you want to leave, I suppose, you can."_

_"Who are you?"_

_"Pazima Reynard, it seems. Although, I could be someone else if you want."  Suddenly, it wasn't Pazima Reynard standing behind the chair, but Lottie, the second sister. She was wearing the outfit that she had worn when he had seen her dance ballet, pants low and wearing a sports bra, smiling as if she knew Luke's stomach kept turning over at the sight of her._

_"That was a bad idea. I need you focused." Suddenly, Pazima had returned, sitting in the chair. Luke shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut._

_"What is going on?"_

_"I'm not Lottie Reynard. Or Pazima Reynard. I'm you."_

_"Me?"  
_

_"You. You could call me your consciousness, or subconscious. Subconscious consciousness." Pazima wrinkled her nose. "Whatever."_

_"How is this possible?"_

_"Oh, come on, we met Yoda, you seriously think this isn't possible?" Pazima raised her eyebrow. "You decided who I look like. So I'm not really Pazima, or Charlotte. I'm just...you."_

_"This is strange."_

_"Clearly. What's going on?"  
_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"Something's going on, or else I wouldn't be here. You told me Pazima's dead." The woman across from him examined her fingernails. "What else?"_

_"Han's missing."_

_"Han's missing!" Pazima repeated, clapping her hands. "But he isn't, is he? He's on Tatooine."_

_"Yeah, but we don't know how to get him."_

_Pazima scrunched her nose. "That's not what we're worried about. Who else?"_

_"Lottie's missing, too."_

_"Oh. She is missing. Proper missing. And...I think that's why I'm here."_ _Pazima outstretched her hand, and Luke found himself able to stand up as he took it, walking with her aimlessly. "I think we can find her."_

_"How?" Luke looked at Pazima, and she smiled._

_"What's our favorite memory of her? I can't remember."_

_"Her dancing."_

_"Oh, that's right. That's the outfit you chose. You know, she's hot."_

_"Seriously?!" Luke rolled his eyes at Paz._

_"Oh, come on."_

_"You're her sister!"_

_"We are_ not  _related to her."_

_"Whatever. Focus on that memory. Close your eyes and focus."_

_Luke relaxed, like Yoda had taught him, and closed his eyes, revisiting to that day when he had discovered her, hair twirling, her tattoo in full view, hands and arms graceful. He kept focusing, so much he remembered the details of each fingernail, each individual turn, and point of her feet, until he wasn't there anymore._

* * *

_Atone for your sins._

_That’s what Lottie Reynard assumed she was doing, covering her ears from the blaring prison alarms and slamming her feet on the cold tile. You don't rack up a kill count of thirty confirmed without paying for something._

_She would be forever grateful of the lack of mirrors in prison; she supposed she looked horrible. Well, worse than usual, anyways. She couldn't remember the last time she brushed her teeth, or washed her hair. She supposed she had dreadlocks now. Maybe dreadlocks would suit her._

_Shuffling into her slippers, she stumbled out of her tiny cell, waiting outside the door for count as the guards paced around. She made eye contact with Iris, her cell neighbor. Her thick, black eyebrows raised and fell, and Lottie gave her a half-smile. That was the most you got before food count._

_“Look, it’s Vader’s little slut,” one of the fat guards spat. Lottie was too tired to roll her eyes. “What, you got your period today?” He glanced at her blood-stained pants. To be fair, it was more like blood-stained everything._

_“Those blood stains are at least a week old,” Lottie spat. “Maybe if you gave me decent food you could entertain your nasty little period fetis-”_

_Lottie was cut off by a slap in the face. “Shut up, inmate!” Lottie only smirked in reply. That slap was worth it._

_She absently wiped the blood from her cracked lips and didn’t even stir as two guards grabbed her, roughly grabbing her upper arms and dragging her to the cafeteria._

_“Be careful, boys, I think that ankle’s still broken,” she said sarcastically, knowing they would do absolutely nothing to stop the sharp pain in her right leg. Her mind was uncharacteristically blank as she was led down the hallways and corridors she had come to know so well. The Devastator was dark and gray, and didn’t lend itself to much deep thought._

_They threw her roughly in the barren cafeteria, Lottie instantly making eye contact with Iris. She grabbed a plate and gratefully accepted the slop from the droids. She hadn't gotten proper food for the three months she had been tortured by Vader. Her finickiness with food had nearly disappeared._

_"Hey." Lottie sat with her food at the steel table with a clank, rubbing her sides._

_"Hey," Iris said, picking up slip from her tray. "You look like shit."_

_"What else is new?" Lottie muttered darkly, throwing her a cold smile. Lottie instantly grimaced and rubbed her side. "Gods, these cramps feel like death."_

_"You're bleeding?" Iris looked the young girl up and down skeptically, looking for the telltale spot of red on her uniform. Lottie only chuckled._

_"This thing's so bloody it's practically dyed red," she dead panned. "If Darth Vader is good for one thing..." She trailed off, picking at the food on the plate._

_Iris pushed the girl's tray lightly. "Girl, you have to eat up, you're already thin as a rail."_

_Lottie shook her head. "I don't think it'll help much. I throw up everything anyways."_

_"You can't starve," Iris nagged._

_"I'm not starving, I'm just being picky."_

_"What is this, a gourmet resturant?" Iris joked, causing Lottie to laugh, but soon rubbed at her hairline, head consumed with thoughts._

_"What's going on? You seem upset."_

_"'Ris, I'm in prison."_

_"Yeah, well, besides that."_

_Lottie sighed, putting down her fork. "It's Wonder Boy."_

_"Wonder Boy!" Iris chorused, clapping her hands. "Of course. What now, you're worried his dick's only six inches instead of seven?"_

_"Shut up!" Lottie said, slapping Iris' hand. "No, its...Vader tortures me for three months and then just lets me go? And he hasn't called me back?"  Lottie shrugged. "I didn't tell him anything I thought was valuable. I'm just...worried."_

_"You know, my advice would help more if I actually knew who he was."_

_Lottie shook her head, smiling as she resumed eating her food. "No way. That's classified."_

_"Godsdammit! I bet it's Han Solo."_

_"No, he's an asshole."_

_"So you knew him?"_

_"Who didn't I know?" Lottie said, smirking as the two ate their food._

_"19845!" An officer shouted Lottie's name, Lottie standing up immediately._

_"Yes, sir!" she replied, her face going red at the sudden quiet of the cafeteria._

_"Lord Vader demands your presence. Immediately."_

_Lottie looked at Iris in shock, the other woman's mouth gaped in horror, and back at the officer._

_"No," she said, frantically searching for somewhere to go. "No, there must be a mistake, I answered all of his questions-"_

_"Who are you to question my orders?" Lottie grunted as he kicked her ribs, absentmindedly registering a crack as she fell to her knees, her arms seized roughly by two faceless stormtroopers._

_"Let her go!" Iris yelled. "She only just got cafeteria rights-" The other woman screamed as she was kicked in the stomach, falling to the floor with a thud._

_"Iris!" Lottie only watched in horror as the officer sadistically kicked her in front of the crowd, her face quickly turning black and blue. "Please, stop, she didn't do anything. I'll go, just leave her and take me to him."_

_"Lottie-"_

_"I'll be fine, Ris, really."_

_"Lottie don't let him-"_

_"Yeah, go on your way, Vader's whore," Andis spit, smiling sadistically as the salty liquid reached Lottie's cheek._

_"Fuck you," she snarled, as the soldiers dragged her from the cafeteria._

_"Insubordinate little cunt!" Andis yelled, punching Lottie square in the face. "Go suck Vader's dick looking like that and see if he doesn't kill you after!"_

_"Trust me, death would be a relief," Lottie muttered to herself, blood filling her mouth and coughing up onto her uniform.Lottie looked at Iris' limp form through the doors, barely mouthing a goodbye before they slammed shut._


	4. Chapter 4

Luke Skywalker rapped on Jax Collins’ door, still panting from running down the hallway. He woke up from his dream in a cold sweat, throwing his covers off, not even bothering to put on shoes as he took off. He needed to find her, _exactly_ where Lottie was, and if anyone could find Lottie now, it was Jax.

“What?” Jax grunted, rubbing his eyes and opening the door, his black hair sticking out and curled in odd places, his feet adorned with pitten slippers.

“I found her," Luke 

Jax’s rubbed at his eyes, opening the door more so Luke could come in. “You what where?” He absentmindedly turned his caf maker on and put a mug under it.

“I found Lottie.”

Jax's eyes instantly lit up, looking at Luke in disbelief. "Wha-I mean-How?"

"I don't know," Luke said, taking a seat and running his hands through his hair. "It's-hard to explain, but I'm pretty sure."

“Wedge, come to my room. Quickly.” He rolled his eyes at a muffled response. “Please, it’s important.” "Well, you got a name? A place? What?"

"I-I don't have name. Of where she is. But she's in prison, I know that for sure."

 "Okay, well that's something," Jax said, taking his mug of caf and sitting onto a program, logging onto a search software in a flash. “You’re going to have to be more specific. Can you give me...anything else?”

Luke could tell Jax was skeptical about all of this, but that wasn't going to stop him, especially when it came to this. “It was...gray and black.”

“Color isn’t really going to help. Do you have the name of an inmate? Besides her, I mean.”

“Oh! Yeah, Iris.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, I didn’t get anything else.”

“Alright, fair enough. I got like a million Irises, do you have a description, possibly? Species, hair color, gender, anything.”

“Oh, sure. She was a human woman, dark, black hair, pale skin, maybe around fifty or sixty? She was very thin.”

Jax nodded, sipping his caf and filtering out search results on his holocomputer.

“I got nothing,” Jax said. “That can’t be right.” He hit a button again. "How hard is it to find-"

"What's going on?" Wedge walked into the room and sat next to Luke.

"Luke thinks he has Lottie, but-" Jax slammed the side of his computer, grunting in frustration.

"How did you find her? Force...stuff?" Wedge asked, for lack of a better word.

"Force stuff," Luke replied.

Jax pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. "This isn't right-Luke, who ran the prison? Who was on it, anyone important?"

"Yeah, yeah," Luke breathed, running a hand through his hair. "Darth Vader. He was there."

"Oh my god, of course," Jax sighed, closing out of his program and opening something different.

"What?" Luke asked, getting up from his chair and kneeling behind Jax, looking at the computer screen.

"Wedge, I can't believe we didn't think of this. It was so obvious," Jax hissed.

"What was so obvious?" Wedge questioned, standing on Jax's opposite shoulders.

"Each Star Destroyer has small prisons, reserved for high-value inmates or ones who committed really heinous crimes. I just didn't think-because I mean," Jax turned to the two men as the computer loaded something, "They don't know about Lottie, you know, what we know about her. What would they want her for? As far as they know, they would execute her for treason, and that's that." Jax turned back to his computer, laughing and taking another sip of his caf. "Prisoners aren't on records there, because they don't want us to know, and more importantly, don't want us to know who they have and who potentially has information."

"So she's on one of these things?" Wedge pointed to the screen at the  _Executor_ plans.

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Jax said, his smile growing wider as he pulled up various video feeds, scrolling through the cameras pointing at the cells. "They're on standard time like us, so the inmates should be sleeping. If she's here, I-Got her."

The video went full screen as Wedge laughed in disbelief. Luke could hardly believe it. It was her, the dream was real. She slept with her back to the camera, her hair noticeably thinner and her legs crossed, her bare feet just bones. He couldn't see much, the camera was black and white and the quality was shoddy at best, but it was her.

"I mean, that hair doesn't lie, right?" Jax said excitedly, Luke wrapping his arms around his friend as the two other men laughed, cheering and whooping excitedly.

"So she's on the  _Executor,_ " Wedge said, writing it down on his datapad quickly as Jax got up, pouring more caf for the two others, everyone still wrapping their heads around the good news. "Can we contact her at all?"

"I can see if we have any moles on the ship," Jax said, sitting back down on the datapad, but Luke stopped him.

"No, don't do that. She could be in big trouble if someone outside of the prison system talks to her," Luke said. "Any way we can send code into the camera?"

"Uhhh, no," Jax said, Luke resigning to the chair in defeat and Wedge running a hand through his hair, pacing and grabbing a cup of caf. "No, the camera's way too old. It's just a basic model to make sure she hasn't escaped."

"So we found her, but we can't do anything," Wedge mused, pacing back and forth. "Well, at least we know something."

"No, guys, you're missing the point," Luke said, shocked at Jax and Wedge's confused faces. "We rescue her."

Jax snorted, sipping his caf. "Sure."

"Come on, I mean, we just accomplished the hardest step of the process. We found her, now we just need to find a way to get in."

"Yeah, the most wanted man in the galaxy sneaks into the  _Executor_ and doesn't get caught," Jax replied. "Lottie's a dead woman walking."

"Not like tha-Wedge, c'mon. You must want to get her."

Wedge sighed, his voice taking the tone of a parent disciplining his child. "Luke, of course we want to get her. I mean, everyone in this room loves her. But...I mean, let's face it. We're three fifths of a team, and the shitty three fifths in any case. Sure, we're good at flying, Jax is good with droids, I can throw a decent battle plan together, you have the Force or whatever. But breaking out of a prison is beyond any of us."

"Well, we just figure it out," Luke countered, looking for some sort of support. "I mean, it can't be that different from a battle."

"Yeah it can," Jax said. "This is one of the most heavily guarded ships in the Imperial fleet, not counting the fact that a power-mad Sith Lord is at the helm. I mean, even if Paz and Lottie were here it would be one hell of a long shot."

"Fine," Luke said, anger boiling. "If you won't come with me, I'll do it myself."

"Luke, that's suicide," Wedge pleaded.

"It won't be if you help me. I'll go alone-"

"Luke," Jax got up from his tone, his once-irritated voice now calm. "Listen. Wedge is right. If we do this, it could get us all killed. Not just me, not just you, but Lottie, too. If this rescue goes wrong, and it probably will, imagine what they would do to her."

Luke closed his eyes, his mind flashing with images of Lottie screaming from the dream, her face gaunt and bloody and bruised. He didn't want to imagine what Vader, his father, would do to her. Has done to her.

"Look," Wedge said, putting down his mug and clapping Luke on the shoulder. "We all care about her, Luke. Maybe-" Wedge glanced to Jax, "Maybe not in the way you do. Or might. Or did. It doesn't matter now. We try to get her out, sure. There's a chance it might work. But there's a bigger chance it's gonna fail, and if that happens, we all die, but Lottie dies a slow, painful death. They make her suffer. But if we don't, she lives, and she gets a quick death in a gas chamber. Think about it, it's your choice. But," Wedge scoffed, turning to the image of Lottie sleeping on the screen, "A quick death is the best any of us could hope for."


	5. Chapter 5

A few days had passed since Luke had found out that Lottie was alive. He hadn't told anyone exactly how; he didn't want to deal with Jax and Wedge's disbelief. Instead, he kept the fact that he had somehow seen Pazima-But-Not-Pazima lead him to Lottie Reynard's location in a dream. Hell, they already thought he was crazy enough, he didn't need this too.

At first, he thought that keeping it to himself would work, for some odd reason. But instead, it ate him alive, with the guilt that he wasn't going after her, with questions as to  _why_ he had seen her. Why him. It seemed almost cruel of the universe, at this point, to decide to pile this on, on top of everything else. He pushed away thoughts that it was his fault, too; he couldn't have done anything about her capture, and he couldn't have done anything about what Vader would do to her. He could do something about her release, and for a few days, he had considered going solo and rescuing her himself. However, he remembered Yoda and Obi-Wan's words; he was reckless. Not only that, the last time he tried to rescue someone in the clutches of his father ended in complete failure.

Luke found himself in Leia's room. She was off at a meeting, but he couldn't think of anyone else to talk to. Sure, the Fox Squadron were exceptionally good at keeping secrets and easing guilt over varying levels of violent acts, but Leia was practically the only person he knew who wasn't in prison that took the Force seriously. He needed to tell someone about these dreams. He needed to sleep somehow.

When she arrived in her dorm to Luke sipping tea he had made, she nearly jumped a mile.

"Luke! Oh my gods, hi." Leia laughed briefly, shaking her head. "Sorry, I just didn't expect you to be here."

"It's alright, I should have knocked. Or not have barged in while you were at a meeting."

"No, it's fine," Leia said, preoccupied by the load of files she was carrying. Luke couldn't help but notice the dark circles behind her eyes, the occasional twitch of her hands.

"So you haven't been sleeping either?" Luke asked, taking another sip of his tea.

Leia sighed exasperatedly, turning to Luke as she half-slammed her hands on the table. "You too?"

"Yeah. It's been hard ever since-well, y'know."

"Yeah." Leia sat at her desk, Luke sat at the bed. They stared opposite each other for a while, not saying much of anything until Luke spoke.

"Actually, Leia, I was wondering your opinion on something."

"Hmm?"

"Well, I've been having these dreams-visions, really. I didn't know if you knew, but Lottie is missing."

"Oh, yes," Leia said, her face donning a somber tone and her voice dropping as if she had forgotten. "Luke, I'm so sorry. She's been declared-"

"I know, but she's not dead. We found her."

"Luke, that's great!" Leia clapped him on the shoulder, her smile wide. "Where is she?"

"She's-she's on the _Executor_. She's in prison, but Leia-that doesn't matter. Well, it does, but it doesn't. I-I've been having these...visions, like I said. Of her, and Pazima, her sister."

"Yes. I heard about what happened, it's terrible."

"That's how I found her. Wedge and Jax think I'm crazy, and maybe I am, and...do you think I could rescue her?"

Leia heaved a long sigh, taking the hand on Luke's shoulder and fiddling with a loose braid as she thought. "Luke, I know she was your friend but, it's the _Executor_. At least with Han we _know_ we can get him. Lottie-we're talking thousands upon thousands of guards, not to mention Darth Vader, who was the one who put Han in this situation in the first place."

Luke could tell her voice was rising, she was trying to control her anger and sadness over Han but trying to understand Luke. He instantly began berating himself for turning to her for this. She probably thought he was crazy too. Hell, she was never a fan of the Reynard sisters in the first place; they were classless and rude, she was posh and polite. 

"Yeah. I gotta go," Luke said quickly, not hearing Leia's goodbye and walking back to his own dorm room, his thoughts forming red clouds in his mind.

Without even a passing thought, he opened his bag and found something-a dusty old bottle of rum from someplace exotic. Sitting in his bag for months, barely untouched except for one night with Lottie, where they were both blind drunk and giggling and happy for once, Lottie falling asleep with her head in his lap and his nestled in the crook of her waist. She had made the most addicting drink with this, but perhaps he was just intoxicated with her, her smell coming back to him like a tidal wave, cigarras and vermouth and a vague musk that acted as her perfume.

Luke poured the drink into an old glass, filling it nearly to the brim. He was tired. In possibly every way. Physically, mentally. Exhausted, really.

And if he learned one thing from the Reynard sisters, alcohol tasted better than sleeping pills anyway. If you were going to become dependent on something, it may as well be something good. 


	6. Dream 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: torture, graphic violence

_"Would you just leave me alone for a night?" Luke sighed, his dreamlike self acutely aware of Not-Pazima standing opposite him, folding her arms and giving him an amused smirk. He tried valiantly to take in his surroundings, Not-Pazima apparently having thrown him into some sort of grey, octagonal room, his hands and knees numb from the cold floor._

_"From what I understand, most men wouldn't say that to Pazima Reynard."_

_Luke rolled his eyes. If this was his conscience, his self, he hated it right now. "Whatever. I know Lottie is in prison. Speaking of, where the hell are we?" He looked around, sitting on his knees and hands running through his hair._

_"Actually, Luke, I wasn't the one that brought us here." She paced absentmindedly, kicking at nothing with her combat boots._

_"Well then, who did?"_

_"Take a wild guess." The tone of her distinctively not his, but not Paz's either. He knew exactly who would say something like that to him, but muted the thought of her._

_"My father."_

_"_ Our  _father."_

_As if on cue, Luke noticed his father, armor-clad, robotic, near a table filled with various objects. Torture items. It was enough to send him backwards, yelling, recoiling. Sharp memories of Bespin came flooding back to his mind. His right hand, his robotic hand, palmed his forehead, his eyes closing shut in an attempt to block them out. It was moments later when he realized his father didn't notice him, or at least didn't seem to. He opened his eyes again, taking large gulps of air_

_Gathering breath, he looked again, and noticed another thing that wasn't there-a rack, square, with four shackles on either corner._

_"This is so weird," he gasped._

_"Yeah, tell me about it." Not-Pazima squatted next to him, her hands folding as she stretched them between her legs._

_"Well, if he brought me here, then why are_ you  _here?"_

_"Willpower, I suppose. A driving need to self-preserve."  She got up and began to walk, as if bracing herself for something, back against the far wall of the small room."Listen, you're gonna need someone to look at when all of this goes down."_

_"All of what?"_

_Not-Pazima only cocked her head towards the door, opening with a clang as Lottie Reynard was thrown unceremoniously into the room, her head hitting the durasteel with a smack._

_"Lottie!" Luke called, crawling over to her shivering form, limp hands clutching at her head. "Lottie, please, it's me-"_

_"She can't hear you." Not-Pazima said, Luke nearly angry at the woman's reaction. She was calm, collected. So different than what would actually happen if Pazima was there. Real Pazima._

_Luke looked back at Lottie, only inches from her face. She looked terrible. Worse than she did in his first vision. Her teeth were yellow and rotting, her skin stretched thin over bone. Her hair, so often the point of her own self-worth, was knotted and bloody. Her eyes and cheeks were sunken and purple, her scars looking even more prominent than usual. The guards unceremoniously stripped her of her clothing, and Luke felt a rage unmatched by anything else he had seen bubble inside his stomach._

_"Stop it!" he yelled, trying to get a guard to pay attention, to no avail. Luke felt his anger boil as she was shackled, left in nothing but utility undergarments. Luke saw cuts on her stomach and chest, crudely stitched together with black thread. One of the guards lifted up her bra and stabbed her with a needle, causing her to cry out. There were little puncture wounds all along her spine where the needle went in, spaced evenly._

_"Lottie," he whispered, trying to reach out to her spine, to touch her, to comfort her, as her head hung limp on her shoulder. "Father, please-"_

_"What are you gonna do to me now, you pig?" Finally Lottie spoke, and in a way, it caused Luke a sick kind of joy. Just to hear that voice, the Coruscant accent and the bad grammar and the spitting, gave him some sort of the comfort. Even if the spit was mixed with blood._

_"We have an audience today, Miss Reynard." For the first time, Darth Vader acknowledged his son's presence, looking over to him as he dismissed the guards with a wave of his hand._

_"Father, please-" Luke pleaded again, but his father turned again to Lottie._

_"I don't have the fucking time for your Force delusions of grandeur, you pretentious cunt. Just get this over with."_

_"I think you'll be interested-"_

_"Why do you even give me that truth serum shit anyway? It's not like you ask me any questions."_

_"You don't ask her questions?" Luke asked, his voice hoarse. He knew what this was now. He was here to watch her. Watch Vader torture his love._

_"Are you sure you don't want to know?" Vader asked, adjusting a glove as he stood from his chair._

_"I don't want to-Ah!" Lottie screamed as Vader twisted his hand, the rack shaking dangerously as pain seemed to sweep throughout her whole body, tears clogging her hazel eyes._

_"No!" Luke yelled, getting in-between his father and Lottie, shaking the rack, but nothing would work. She sobbed silently, salty tears spilling onto her bare shoulder. "You asshole," he hissed, turning to his father._

_"I think, today, things'll be short, Miss Reynard."_

_"I gotta know, do you get off on this?" Lottie asked, glancing towards a long knife Vader was now holding. Luke could see the fear in her eyes, and stepped away, almost unable to look. "How would you even jack off in that thing?'_

_"That's enough, Charlotte."_

_Without warning, Vader cut through her, from collarbone to sternum, the wound opening with Lottie's bloodcurdling scream, her clothes spilling open and blood spilling onto her bare breasts, onto her stomach, covering the ballerina tattoo she had gotten when they first met. The cut was wide and gaping, skin bursting open. Luke yelled her name, trying to hold her face, trying to touch the wound, but he couldn't feel anything. He cried, looking at her face, which had gone completely motionless, the light in her eyes nearly out._

_"Lottie, please, don't die," he whispered hoarsely. Suddenly, his face snarled with rage, and turned to his father._

_"How could you do this to her! She hasn't done anything!" But again, his father ignored him, calling in the guards to remove Lottie's form._

_"Stitch her up," he ordered. "Then put her in her cell."_

_The operation left, Lottie's body carried out of the room as Vader followed, black boots clicking on the ground and cape sweeping behind him._

_Shell-shocked, Luke turned to Pazima, looking for some sort of answer as tears spilled down his face._

_"I'm so sorry, Luke," Pazima said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry."_


	7. Chapter 7

Luke rubbed at his eyes, scrolling past the encrypted data he was trying to get to. He turned to Artoo, his blue astromech, sitting in the corner, looking for any sort of conversation _,_ even from a droid. But Artoo had shut off, and Luke returned to the data.

It was irrelevant. For some monetary dropoff or something. Leia had asked him to go over it for her, and he agreed, even though he knew he wouldn't have been much help. He could barely focus on anything the past few weeks. In between worrying about Han and worrying about Lottie, he finally had the time to grieve Pazima. And grieve he did. He wasn't as close to Pazima as Lottie, or even Wedge. But she was a very good friend. It was hard to know he was living in a galaxy where he wouldn't hear her singing a tune as she brushed Lottie's hair, Lottie wincing as Pazima tugged. He wouldn't ever laugh with her again as they spent hours fixing the Prophet and his X-Wing, talking about everything and nothing in particular. She wasn't an open person, never was. They never discussed her,how she was doing, her personal life. Occasionally, they would touch on his, mostly under Pazima's guidance, mostly about her sister. She was fiercely protective of her, although she wouldn't admit it, least of all to him. It rubbed off on Lottie, and Luke suspected it rubbed off on him. Now, she was gone, and it was a damn shame.

Luke heard a knock on the door. Without even bothering to get up from his desk, he called for the person to come in, focusing again on the data. 

"Commander Skywalker?" Luke turned. A fresh-faced Human male. He nodded, acknowledging him and giving a small smile.

"Yes?"

"This bag of yours just came in from the remains of Echo Base, sir. General Organa thought you should have it. Sir." The last "sir" was a shaky afterthought, a nervous add-on.

"Please. It's just Luke. Thanks, you can just leave it there."

"Okay, sir-I mean, Luke."

"Tell Leia I'll have her data proofread by the afternoon."

"Okay, Luke. Goodbye."

"Bye now." Luke gave him an absent-minded wave, returning to his holocomputer. He looked at the data again, knowing it was a lost cause, and flipped to a different screen.

It was the feed to Lottie's prison cell, a live camera. She was there, asleep. Luke couldn't see any new cuts from the day before. A few bruises, maybe. But he could breathe some sigh of relief. Whatever torture she had endured at his father's hands, she had survived another day. Another day until he could rescue her, somehow, someway. 

His comm then lit up, a message received from Lando. He ignored it, focusing on Lottie's shallow breathing, just barely visible through the monitor. He had been putting off real work on Han's rescue anyway, focusing on Lottie and the cleanup work from the Rebel's defeat on Hoth. He could assume Lando was taking care of it, as Lando often did. Besides, as far as he knew, hibernation was much more preferable than being tortured day in, day out, hanging onto your life by a thread.

Brushing his fingers against the computer screen to where Lottie's small form was, he got up, hauling the small Rebellion-issue bag onto the bed. He didn't remember what was inside, but the clothes probably should have been folded better at any rate, and could probably use a good wash. 

His hands flew through old shirts, sleep pants, underwear. It was a going-away bag, he remembered. He stored it under his bed on Hoth. Took it out for missions with very little notice so he had civilian clothes and necessities with him.

He was taken aback by something that seemed to shine through the layers of dull-colored clothes and old sports jerseys and shirts that advertised bands he couldn't even remember if he liked or not. It was bright pink, but not obnoxious, magenta pink. More of a baby pink. Instantly, he knew it wasn't his, and picked it up right away.

It was a dress. He held it by the shoulders. The sleeves were short and flouncy, the skirt gathered at the waist with a full skirt. The fabric was rough and smooth all at the same time.

He knew exactly what this was. It was Lottie's dress. Specifically, it was a dress she wore on a mission to Nar Shadaa. Not a pretty planet, or even a particularly nice one, but she made it so. They were going to some run-down cantina, he remembered, and this was the only outfit she had left that hadn't been ruined by blood or vomit or something disgusting, and wasn't her grungy sweatpants and tank top she wore for sleeping and flying on planes. They were on their last day there, just gathering some information before heading home. She was excited they were going out, even if it was to a place where they both could have been killed if they looked at someone the wrong way. She had put her hair in a messy bun on the top of her head, wispy curls still wet and dark red from the fresher. She waited for him to tie his shoes as she danced around their hotel room to an old Corellian love song, the singer wailing away his love for a girl named Anna, Lottie singing the words absentmindedly. The flounces on the sleeves twirled as she twirled, chiding him for being late in her thick Coruscanti accent. He had commented on how nice she had looked earlier as he zipped up her dress, color rising to his cheeks as he could see her bare back and the clasp of her bra as she held up her hair. She had brushed it away, her insecurities always getting in the way of a compliment. That night, she changed into the aforementioned grungy sweatpants and tank top, letting her hair down and falling asleep next to him (they could never afford two beds, he remembered), her foot just touching his.

As he clutched the dress, he noticed it even smelled like her, or more specifically, the cigarras she smoked so frequently, and the alcohol she consumed. To him, it was one of the best combinations of scents in the world.

Seeing the dress, inhaling the leftover smokey scent, brought him happiness for a brief second. And then he glanced back at the computer screen.

Lottie was gone. Luke knew where she was, even though he couldn't bring to admit it to himself. Being tortured. Because of him. Because of his father. Because of all of this.

He threw the dress onto the bed, roughly shoving it back in the bag, and with one, angry thought, he clicked out of the screen of her on his computer.

Wedge and Jax were right. He couldn't save her. Vader was too strong, too powerful. He had already tried with Han, and it had gotten him nothing. Even worse, he hadn't been helping Han. And if it weren't for him, Han wouldn't have been in carbonite. A nagging voice in his head told him the same about Lottie, but he ignored it.

He couldn't do anything. Couldn't. They were right. She was as good as dead now. Best thing to do would be to forget her and move on.

Taking a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle, he grabbed his comm and reached out to Lando.

"Lando. I'm coming to Tatooine now. Make sure there's a room at the rendezvous point for me."


	8. Chapter 8

The lightsaber plasma glowed green, the blade strong and sure as it lit up in Luke's hands, nearly making him recoil in surprise.

"Guess it worked, Artoo."

His droid beeped and whistled next to him, and Luke chuckled at the words that appeared at the translator.

"C'mon. I'm not  _completely_ hopeless. Just mildly."

Swinging the green blade, the plasma cutting into the thick Tatooine air, it was almost impossible not to think of Lottie. Perhaps because the best swordswoman in the galaxy had trained him, and along with Yoda's training, his moves became more sure and swift. He lacked form and grace, but those were two things he could work on. 

It had been two months since he arrived on his home planet, black boots stepping on the scorched ground. He had made a home at Obi-Wan's old abode, nearly untouched by scavengers or Sand People. He had felt the same energy in the air, a general sense of discomfort, that he was almost sure Ben had left to ensure his home's safety. He slept in one of the few small rooms, and while exploring, he had found a diary that told him, step-by-step, how to make a lightsaber, as if it was left for him. He would be forever grateful to Ben for the instruction.

The progress they had made on Han Solo's rescue was slow, but he had just taken a big step in retrieving him by creating the lightsaber. He would have been a fool to go into Jabba's Palace on blasters alone. It would be a long while before any of them stepped foot in that hellhole-they were relying on Lando to create a convincing cover, which could take months. Luckily, from what he had read on carbon freezing, it wasn't painful. In fact, it was almost like sleep. They needed to hurry, but they didn't need to rush. Better to come in prepared rather than run in clueless. A Wedge Antilles adage, but a good one nonetheless.

They were supposed to arrive today, Wedge and Jax. They would be helping with the mission, providing behind-the-scenes work. Wedge was the best strategist anyone knew, and Jax could get information on the palace quicker than anyone. Leia was talented, and so was Luke, but they were both out of their element on this one, Leia perhaps more so.

Realizing he was lost in thought, he blinked 

"Woah! Watch where you're swinging that thing."

Leia came up behind him, her hair in a long braid and her hands stuck in deep pockets of white utility pants, her smile mildly mischievous.

"Seems like Ben's still helping us after all."

"Seems like it. Hey, Artoo."

Artoo responded happily to her, making Luke smile. Artoo was as much Leia's as he was his.

"When are Wedge and Jax getting in?" Luke squinted against the sun.

"Soon, hopefully. I got my last comm from them yesterday. They're flying overnight."

"Right," he nodded. "Well, hopefully they get some sleep. I know it's hard to keep track of time on Home One."

Leia snorted. "You're telling me. It's so nice to be on a planet again."

"Yeah. Even if it is this dustball."

"Oh, it's not that bad."

"Ha." Luke glanced back at her, a smile covering his face as he deactivated his lightsaber, a hand reaching her shoulder. "How have you been?"

"Better," she answered, honestly. "I was a wreck coming back from Bespin, but-Just being here, being close to him, it's enough."

Luke nodded. "That's good, Leia. Really good."

"How about you?"

"How about me?" he asked.

"The dreams. How have they been?"

"Ah," he said, turning from his friend and walking towards the house, kicking sand as he stepped. Leia soon fell into step with him, Artoo rolling behind. "I've been trying to ignore them. Go as long as I can without sleep."

"Luke-"

"I know, Leia. You don't have to scold me." His voice was snappier than he intended, and at Leia's hurt face, he instantly regretted it. "Sorry, Leia. I just-I think Vader's toying with me." He didn't think-he knew. But he didn't tell Leia of his parentage, a parentage that he was suspecting to be true, but was as of yet unconfirmed. That was a cut too deep to tell anyone. Not yet.

"Why?"

"Last Jedi. Maybe he wants to recruit me."

"So he captured Lottie to mess with you?"

"Seems like it." He didn't comment on how guilty he felt-Lottie was suffering for him. No fault of her own. Just his.

"What if he doesn't have her? What if he's just messing with you?"

"Where the hell else would be?!" This time, he did snap, his voice rising dangerously.

"Luke-"

"I'm-I'm sorry, Leia. I just need to be alone for a while." He waved her off with his hand, turning towards Obi-Wan's home.

"We're worried about you, Luke," she called. Luke turned at her words, but didn't stop, continuing into the darkness of the house. "All of us. I haven't told them about the dreams, but-You've been drinking, Luke." Luke ignored her words as he took a bottle of vodka off the shelf of the kitchen. "You haven't been yourself. I know this must be hard for you, but-there's nothing we can do."

"There's always something we can do," he muttered, his voice decidedly Reynard-like as he took a swig from the bottle, glaring at Leia as he attached the lightsaber to his hip. "I'll be fine, Leia. I just need time."

"You tell yourself that," her voice quiet, but filled with exasperation. She turned on her heel and continued to her room, Luke's eyes hooded as he continued to drink.


	9. Dream 3

_ It took Luke two tries to fully wake up, hearing the electric beep of his comm. The first time he heard it, his eyes fluttered open lazily, a blur of red-orange blocking his view. He was too tired and too sleepily content to do much else than slam the alarm to a snooze and fall back into half-sleep. _

_ It beeped again, and he saw that same blur, and briefly wondered where he was. Out of nowhere, he heard a deep, sleepy groan in her familiar Coruscanti voice: _

_ “Luke, turn it off.” _

_ Every word stretched out like taffy, somewhere between a whine and amusement, Lottie Reynard turned to him, holding a blanket modestly to her chest. Her shoulders were pale and completely bare and the blanket drooped tantalizingly at her back, revealing more of her skin and nearly all of the large dancer tattoo she had gotten when she first met him. _

_ She reached across him and turned off his comm as Luke stared dumbfounded. This was Lottie. Lottie Reynard. Lottie Reynard-in-prison-best-friend-roommate-possibly ex-girlfriend? Who knew anymore? But she was definitely here, in the flesh, in  nothing  but the flesh, in fact, in his bed. _

_ “Hey,” he said lamely, running a finger down her back. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed, but it almost felt like he needed to. This was too good to be true. Astonished, he saw a wedding band on his hand, and he assumed it was to her. His proof was verified as she stopped, smirking up at him, and laid her chin on his chest, lightly tracing a vein in his arm. _

_ “Hello,” she whispered, her voice soft, her lips curling into a full smile. “I’m glad your child hasn’t kept me up too late. I’m enjoying the sleep while I can.” _

_ She’s pregnant.  It seemed like a stupid realization, but it was amazing. He was married to Lottie, she was pregnant with his child, and she was here, real. _

_ This could be another dream, he thought, but if it was, it was a damn good one. _

_ “Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” he asked awkwardly, but rested his hand on her lower back, rubbing the soft skin there. She smiled again, tracing his collarbone before he said anything. _

_ “I don’t know, you’re the one with magic Force abilities, sweetheart. I’m surprised you didn’t feel the bump last night, actually. It’s starting to get bigger.” _

_ Last night.  The words reverberated back in his mind. Did she mean- _

_ “What do you mean, last night?” he asked, trying to feign innocence. He knew he was naked, and she certainly was, but that didn’t mean- _

_ Lottie broke into hysterical laughter, but pulled Luke up to a sitting position, letting the sheet fall down and exposing her chest. “You are so stupid,” she said, drawing out every word and wrapping his arms around her waist. She brought her hands up to his neck and kissed him, her lips tasting like cigarras and good vodka and strawberry lipgloss. “Here, come here, you can feel it,” Lottie whispered, running his hand down to a small, raised spot underneath her navel. _

_ Luke chuckled, half out of wonder and half out of joy. “We made that?” he said, his voice soft. _

_ Lottie nodded, climbing out of Luke’s lap and getting up, pulling a robe off of the ground and placing it around her naked body. “C’mon, you’re gonna be late to work,” she called, closing the door. _

_ Luke fell back on his pillow, closing his eyes and sighing. This had to be, without a doubt, the best dream he would ever have-or maybe it was real, but either way, he just saw her  naked.  And she was  pregnant.  And they had definitely had sex the night before. And they were married, and she loved him, and she was safe and alright and still the scarred scarred, tattooed Lottie he knew.  _

_ And, I mean, he just saw her naked. There were worse things in life than Lottie Reynard naked. _

_ Cocking his head, he pulled on a pair of sleep pants and joined her in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her in a bear hug, kissing her ear. _

_ “Mornin’, gorgeous,” he said, nuzzling her neck and swaying her from side to side. _

_ “I knew you were slow this morning,” she said, laughing to herself but giving him a brief kiss on the nose. “You usually do this as soon as I wake up. Pancakes good?” _

_ “Pancakes are fine,” Luke replied, letting her go but trailing his hand on her back. “I’m just trying out something different today.” He poured himself a cup of caf, sitting on the counter and watching her make breakfast. “What are you gonna do today?” _

_ “Eat,” Lottie replied matter-of-factly. “I am so fucking hungry all of the time,” she babbled. “I think I eat more than even you.” _

_ “That’s impossible,” Luke replied, taking a pancake off the platter. “Even if you are eating for two.” _

_ Lottie smiled, hopping up onto the counter and sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with him. “Gods, maybe I should make up name lists. Or look at cribs.” She rubbed the spot between her navel again, looking down at her stomach. “Seven more months,” Lottie murmured, looking up at Luke. “Seven. Gods, Leia’s already had two.” _

_ Luke laughed, resting his head on her shoulder. “And we’re gonna have ours, Lot. Soon enough.” _

_ “Maybe we’ll have twins,” she said, taking his left hand and fiddling with his ring. “Or triplets. Then we’ll really be outnumbered.” _

_ Luke chuckled, but looked at Lottie again. “I’m so lucky, y’know? We’re so lucky.” _

_ “Yeah, I’d agree,” Lottie replied,that damn smirk on her face as she turned to him and set her caf down. “You are lucky.” _

_ Luke smiled, but took her cheeks in his hand, and kissed her, the feeling still new but familiar, like he had kissed her a million times. He slipped his hands underneath her robe, running his rough hands against her smooth skin, pockmarked only from the scars underneath. Lottie moaned in his mouth, but pulled away, closing her eyes and running her hands through his hair. _

_ “Luuuuke,” she whined. “You can’t do this to me now, you have to work.” _

_ “Work?” he asked playfully, kissing her again and letting his lips trail down her neck. “What’s that?” _

_ “With your  father, ” Lottie replied. “The Emperor?!” _

_ “Woah, woah, woah.” Luke pulled back, standing up. “My father?! I’m working for my father?!” _

_ “Yeah, Luke, you’ve worked for him for a year-what the hell is going on?!” _

_“No, what the hell is going on here?” Luke’s voice rose steadily, pointing wildly at Lottie as she covered up with her robe. “We’re married, you’re all...naked and sexy and pregnant, and I’m working for my father?”_

_ “Yes, he saved me and let us live together and we’re safe-Luke, you’re scaring me.” _

_ Luke scoffed and stuttered, running his hands through hair. “Saved me-save-you’re not the Lottie I know and-oh no.” Luke rested his hands on the counter, looking at Pazima from the corner of the room. “You’re not here.” _

_ “This is Vader talking to you right now, Luke,” Pazima said, walking towards him, her arms folded. “Don’t believe a word of-” _

_ “Luke, who are you talking to?” Lottie tried to rest her hands on his chest, but Luke brushed them away. “What’s going on?”   
_

_ “ _ _ This isn’t real,” he muttered, shaking his head and backing away from Not-Lottie. “This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real-” _

_ “Son-” _

_ “Oh Gods, not fucking now!” Luke yelled, slumping against the countertop. He never said that-that was Lottie talking, the real Lottie, not this strange, sexual, caf-drinking, obedient, wishful, altogether untruthful Charlotte Reynard. “Not fucking now,” he repeated. _

_ “Come with me and this all can happen-” _

_ “Don’t make me do this, Father, please-” _

_ “You can have this-” _

_ Luke looked up at Not-Lottie, who was crying, “Just let her go-” _

_ “Join me, and together-” _

_ “NO!” Luke yelled, looking up at Lottie, and Pazima, and finally no one. “No, I can’t.” _

_ A pause, and then in a moment, everything changed, and he was back in that hellish room where Lottie was strapped like an animal, one limb to each corner of the square. She was panting, her threadbare undergarments covered in blood, her hair thin and matted with the same blood. _

_ Darth Vader, his father, looked at him and back at Lottie, and then in his chafing metallic voice, “I won’t make this mistake again.” _

_ Vader’s hand clenched, and Lottie screamed an inhuman, high-pitched scream, bending over and rattling against the chains, her tears mixing with blood. It was something worse than he had ever heard it in his dreams, a scream almost demonic. Something was very wrong with her abdomen, Luke knew Vader was telling him that much, but he couldn’t take his eyes of Lottie, screaming and crying and tied up like a pig. She shook violently pain, her voice alternating between pants and whimpers and screams and sobs. She didn't speak, she just shook. _

_ He ran, rattling on the sides of the torture device. “Lottie, Lottie, it’s me,” he said, trying to get her attention, but he knew she couldn’t hear him, as her ragged breath and sobs continued and Lottie’s chin rested on her bare shoulder, her eyes and cheeks sunken and her skin stretched yellow. _

_ “Set an execution date in five days,” Vader commanded to the troops that collected Lottie. "See to it her death is slow." _

_ “NO!” Luke yelled, Vader turning to him as well. “Father, please, you can’t. She hasn’t done anything, this is between us.” _

_ Once the guards left, Vader finally acknowledged Luke’s presence. He didn’t seem to see Pazima, who was in the back, her face full of pity. “You have five days. Turn yourself over to me, or she dies.” _

_ “You can’t do this. She’s innocent.” _

_ Vader laughed humorlessly. “The Fox is innocent? You have interesting taste in women.” _

_ Luke stepped back, his voice dropping to a whisper. “How do you know that?” _

_ “I know everything about her. For example, I know how your stubbornness just cost her your future children.” _

_ “What did you do?” Luke’s voice was dangerously hoarse. _

_ “Something that will ensure she never has a child.” _

_ “You’re a monster,” he said, recoiling and shaking her head. “All she wanted to be was a mother.” _

_ “Good,” Vader said. “Use that anger. Use it, and succumb to the Dark Side.” _

_ “I won’t,” Luke said, focusing his eyes on Pazima, who was rushing towards him. “I can’t.” _

_ "Very well," Vader replied. "You've made your decision." He left the room in grand fashion, the cape sweeping behind him as he left the room, Luke falling to the ground. _

_ “Luke,” Pazima turned to him, kneeling across from him, placing a reassuring hand on his cheek. “Just let it go. Let her go.” _


	10. Chapter 10

Lottie Reynard sat patiently in the darkness of her cell, running her tongue over her teeth, her canines cutting into her tongue.

She didn’t flinch as they drew blood, the thick red dripping slowly over her mouth. It didn’t bother her one bit, taking a drop on her index finger and examining it before wiping it on her pants. She had gotten used to the taste of blood.

She closed her eyes, breathing in, calming herself.

 _Go over the plan,_ she told herself. _Kiss, bite, kill, hair, clothes, blaster, down, right, elevator, left, ship, autopilot, Todd, fly._

_Kiss, bite, kill, hair, clothes, blaster, down, right, elevator, left, ship, autopilot, Todd, fly._

The lights flicked on, and Lottie raised an eyebrow, eyes flipping open. Nerves began to flicker in the pit of her stomach, and Lottie closed her eyes again, and opened them. It was now or never.

_Kiss, bite, kill, hair, clothes, blaster, down, right, elevator, left, ship, autopilot, Todd, fly._

She saw the man she was looking for, a short, fat, Human male. He tried to rape her the first few nights she was here. He learned his lesson, and it was worth the beating she received. Anything to preserve what honor she had left.

He examined the cells, shining a lantern into each one. Lottie threw her hair back, imagining Pazima in her mind. Pazima, the ever-beautiful, ever-seductive. She needed her sister here now, her presence somehow. She spread her legs, putting on a seductive smirk.

All a character.

As soon as he shined the lantern into Lottie’s cell, he stepped back.

“So, the slut finally opens her legs for me,” he taunted.

“I’ll let you fuck me if you give me something in return,” she said tauntingly, getting up from her cot and letting her hips sway. “You can have me any way you like.” She ran her tongue over her lips, sexual to the point of ridiculous, but Lottie had a feeling it would work.

“Why should I have you?”

“I’m a virgin,” she said, her voice silky.

Cocking his head back, and then looking towards his superior, he clicked the keys to the cell open, discarding his belt. Lottie stepped back, that same smirk on her face. A better man would have recognized it, a smile predator gives to prey.

“What do you want?” he asked, roughly pulling down her trousers.

“A good kiss,” she said, and then lunged herself at him, kissing him roughly, with faux passion. He roughly grabbed one of her breasts, Lottie pushing the pain and disgust to the back of her mind, then she moved to his neck.

She gave herself a small smile, a real one, and briefly looked at the man pushing her undergarments to the floor, and bit his neck, muffling his scream with a hand stronger than he would have expected.

Sharpened canines tore a jugular out of his neck, spitting skin on the floor, Lottie using her discarded pants to soak up the blood, her mouth nearly covered in his blood.

She wanted to laugh as the light went out of his eyes, the scum slumping to the floor, his last look one of fear at the woman who towered over him.

“Sorry, love,” she whispered, her voice losing any sultry qualities and replaced with her native accent. “But you’d be surprised what a fork can do.”

With grim satisfaction, she stripped the man of his clothes, putting her blood-soaked ones on his, hauling his body to the cot. Reaching under her mattress, she arranged locks of her hair, sawed off with a sharp rock, around his head. She nearly winced as she touched them, the cut orange locks decidedly sacrilegious, but ignored her discomfort. This would be good enough to fool the guards until morning.

Removing her bra, she tucked her long hair under the standard hat and put on his uniform. Shirt first, then pants, careful to tuck the shirt into the belt.

As an afterthought, she looked at the body in her clothes, and wiped her mouth along the hem of her old pants. Wouldn’t do to have that much blood as an Imperial officer.

She took his socks and shoes off of his feet, slipping her own small feet into the much too large shoes. It would have to work.

Finally, and most importantly, she grabbed the belt, resting on the floor of her cell. She wrapped it around her waist, clicking the buckle at her hips. She took the keycard off of his loop, putting it between her fingers like a cigarra, giving herself a triumphant smile.

Looking down, she made sure the most important thing was attached. A blaster. Imperial grade, and small. She didn’t have her contacts in, so her eyesight wouldn’t be up to par, but it was a weapon. A weapon, and now, really, she could kill.

A slender hand reached between bars, and swiped the guard’s keycard, opening the door from the outside.

Stepping gingerly, she hiked her pants (a more masculine move) and shuffled quickly down the corridor.

“Hey!” Another guard stopped Lottie, and Lottie moved her hat more to shield her face. “How was she?”

“Easy,” Lottie said, adopting the guard’s Outer Rim accent. “I swear, I nearly fucked the life outta her. You should try tomorrrow.”

The guard gave Lottie a sick grin, and let her pass. Lottie felt an overwhelming anger bubble up inside her, making her lightly tap the trigger of her blaster. She should shoot him. He was a pig, and a sick fuck. No man should talk to a woman like that, not just herself. He _deserved_ to die.

 _Brain first, Charlotte. Then heart._ Pazima’s voice came into her mind like a ghost, and Lottie shut her eyes, reminding herself of her training. She took a sharp right and continued on. This one, she decided, she would have to leave to fate.

She itched her scalp, spying the small elevator at the end of the hall. Glancing at her torso, she knew she should have felt pain, but didn’t. Her mind was swimming with adrenaline and the glorious thrill of the kill and the overwhelming prospect of death. She didn’t have time to feel pain.

She hit the button with a southward facing arrow, glancing at the elevator, and then the hall. She only had to wait a few moments until it went to her floor, and she would be in relative safety for a few seconds.

The doors opened, and Lottie scanned the guard’s keycard, granting her access to the hangar bay. She closed the doors instantly, and pressed the button she had observed the guards pressing. She couldn’t read the number, written in Basic. But she knew she was right.

She slid to a corner of the elevator, wincing as she rubbed her lower abdomen. It still felt like it was on fire after Vader’s last torture. She didn’t know what he had done, but the pain had come back with a vengeance and was sending her in and out of consciousness.

She pressed the stop button of the elevator, and closed her eyes. She needed to focus. Whispering hoarsely, she recited her history in Coruscanti.

“Ist duion aim Nadezhda Dorchester. Tuvos rinneavez negadh, apas fait.”

_Your name is Nadezhda Dorchester. You were made, not born._

She continued until the pain returned to its rightful place in the back of her mind. When she was finished, she resumed the elevator’s near-sickening motion.

As the doors opened, she turned left. Straight on from here she would find one of the Devastator’s hangar bays, filled with ships for the taking. It was one of those that she needed.

Her eyes were seeing dark spots, and not just the ones that she saw because of her bad left eye. No, this was different, they were coming from the back of her head, and they threatened her whole plan.

_Kiss, bite, kill, hair, clothes, blaster, down, right, elevator, left, ship, autopilot, Todd, fly. You’re almost there._

She found a ship she could use. It was slightly bigger than a TIE-fighter, and had an astromech droid attached. Her limited knowledge of ships told her that it could be useful. Perhaps it was a small cargo freighter. She couldn’t focus on figuring that out now.

She limped towards the ship, pain in her right leg returning. Her ankle must not have healed correctly. She wouldn’t last long, her instincts told her. Five minutes, maybe, before her body passed out from the stress.

“Sir!” A mechanic straightened up, looking at Lottie in her officer’s uniform.

“I require your ship,” she said, deepening her voice so she sounded more male and straightening her back. “Override the controls for me.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understan-”

“Do as I say.” She masked the panic in her voice with a commanding tone. A good trick she had picked up over the years.

The mechanic nodded, and stepped into the ship, turning it on and setting it so her stolen keycard worked.

“It’s all ready, sir-”

Lottie blasted him without a second thought, running into the ship and closing the door behind her.

“Get me out of here!” she yelled hoarsely to the droid, sitting down at the pilot’s seat. The droid automatically commanded the ship and flew it out of the system.

“Where to?”

“Coruscant,” she said, placing an old security trick Jax had taught her into the drive so she wouldn’t be tracked. “Coordinates 22578-934.”

“Yes, Officer Andis.”

Lottie chuckled at the use of her face name, but then gripped the dashboard as the ship flew into hyperspace. She had two minutes now. If she was lucky.

She pressed a screen, and clicked a button that looked like it was a communicator. It was all in Basic, and she could barely read it even if her eyes weren’t slipping in and out of focus. After a few tries, she did find the communicator and typed in a number she had committed to memory.

“Todd, it’s me,” she said, clutching her sides. Her stomach felt like it was a mixture between nauseating and cramping, but worse than either. “I’m flying into your hangar now. Lock onto this tracking signal and take control of the ship, because I’m gonna be passed out in a minute or two. When you meet me bring-” Lottie looked at her body with disdain- “Prep for surgery, a few casts, possibly paralysis. A fluid drip, and coma supplies. Oh-and I give you permission for the experimental surgery you’re going to have to do to my right and left lower abdomen. I’m guessing around-” Lottie winced- “the uterus perhaps, could be my appendix. Prepare for appendicitis just in case. I think I have at least three broken ribs, a broken right ankle. Prepare for infected cuts and wounds. Anti-scarring material as well. Reynard out.”

She hit the “end” button for the commnicator, and took a deep breath. She was finished. All she had to do now was sleep. If they caught her, they caught her. She had done all she could have done.

She closed her eyes, letting the patches of darkness consume her.

Out of nowhere, she began to laugh. She was free, and she was flying. She didn’t know when she would wake up, or even if she was. But she was free, and no one had power over her anymore. She was going home.

Her five minutes were up. Her broken body slumped over the chair, and Lottie’s mind thought of nothing, the ship flying on into the night.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue in Lower Coruscanti is bolded.

_"Hey!"_

_Lottie blinked, almond eyes opening to a wood-paneled room. She recognized it instantly, a flimsy curtain and peeling wood, too many pallet mattresses on the ground, children's clothes and toys and blankets strewn across the small space. It was her childhood bedroom, shared by too many Carson children, an old sheet dividing the space so her parents had a separate place to sleep. She hadn't been here in years-not since the bombings. She didn't even know it still existed._

_When vision returned to her, she realized the source of the harsh whisper; her sister was kneeling in front of her, Pazima's beautiful features both quizzical and worried._

_"Pazzy!" Lottie's face lit up at the sight of her sister, alive and well, if concerned. "I'm so happy to see you-"_

_"I am too, but you need to wake up."  
_

_"I'm awake," she said simply._

_"No, you're not. There is still so much you have to do."_

_"What are you talking about?" Lottie shook her head. "C'mon, let me show you around-"_

_"Lottie. This doesn't exist. It's all in your head," Pazima said, her voice almost demanding. "You need to get back to reality and wake up."_

_"What happens if I don't?"_

_"You come with me."_

_"And what happens if I want to be with you?" Lottie's eyebrows raised, but Pazima didn't respond._

_" **Nadezhda Dorchester.** " Suddenly, Pazima was joined by a black-haired man with a long face and kind features._

_" **Papa!** " Lottie exclaimed. " **I'm so happy to see you-** "_

_" **Not yet,** " her father responded. " **Pazima is right. You cannot join us yet** **.** "_

_" **Why not?** Pazzy, why not?"_

_"You still have to save the galaxy, Lottie," she said, her full lips turning into a smile._

_" **Your time as the Fox is not yet done, Lolli. When it is, Horrificus will rejoice in the coming of Nadezhda Dorchester, and you shall be with your family again. Now, I need you to wake up.** "_

* * *

Lottie Reynard gasped, sitting bolt upright. The words of her father reverberated in her mind as she panted, her ears only picking up various beeping sounds. She glanced around, her head whipping at various speeds to keep up with her perpetually blocked vision in her left eye. She observed monitors, sandy walls, a cannula around her nose and a needle delivering fluids in her arm, right above her prison number brand. She felt dizzy, almost sick.

"Lottie! Hey! Hey, shh shh shh."

Strong arms grasped her shoulders, and as her eyes focused on Luke Skywalker's face, tanner and older, his mouth hung open in worry as his eyes rapidly scanned her hyperventilating features. "It's okay," he whispered. "It's me, it's me,"

"Did Vader capture you?!" she asked quickly, her breath hoarse. "Luke, if he did, we need to get-"

"Lottie, you're safe. You escaped," he said, and her breath slowed in disbelief.

"I-I thought-"

"You're on Tatooine," Luke explained. "You're safe, Todd brought you here. We're all here."

"Who's we?"

"Me, Wedge, Jax, Todd and Leia. Lando-you don't know him-he's at Jabba's Palace-"

"Leia can't know  _anything_ ," Lottie hissed.

"Lottie, I know," Luke said, his face finally smiling. "It's good to have you back. We thought you were a goner for a while there."

"A while? How long has it been?"

"Two weeks since Todd comm'd us."

Lottie's eyebrows raised. "Huh. Seems like I got a lot of catching up to do."

"Seems like you do." A pause, and then, "I missed you Lottie."

"I missed you too," she said, sincere even though her voice was still dazed and confused. She made it, and she had been out for two whole weeks. She almost  _died._ It was almost too good to be true. Not to mention she was embracing the man that plagued every single question asked by Vader for seven months. Surreal felt like too small a word.

"I should go get Todd," he said after a moment. "I'm pretty sure you waking up is a big deal."

"Yeah-"

"Lottie?!" 

Suddenly, a tan-skinned boy rushed into the room, hair rumpled from sleep and dark stubble on his chin.

"Jax," Lottie breathed, smiling as her friend rushed to her side, hugging her.

"You're awake!"

"Seems that way," Lottie replied, letting out a small laugh. "It's good to see you again."

Wedge rushed in, as soon as the words slipped out, silent but holding back tears as he ran to embrace Lottie, sobbing into her shoulder as she laughed, biting her lips to stop her own tears from rushing down her face.

"I thought I lost you," he finally choked out. "I thought I lost you both."

"You didn't," she said, rubbing Wedge's back. "You can't get rid of me that easy."

He laughed, face red from tears, and Lottie wiped them away with her hand, Wedge touching his forehead to hers. A memory came back to her-overlarge boxing gloves on small hands, Wedge's forehead on hers as they both laughed, the young girl playfully punching his stomach. Memories of Alderaan sunsets and sleeping, finally, between this man and her sister, his face young and happy as their heads rested against hers, light snores in her ear and hands across her stomach.

Her tears came then, taking the hands of her friends, finally reunited after seven months of hell. "I missed you all," she said, taking a moment to look at each one of their faces. "My boys."

"Charlotte! You're awake!"

A different voice broke the reunion, female this time. Leia Organa stepped into the small, already almost overcrowded room, shaking Lottie's hand as she let go of her friends'. "I can't thank you enough for what you've done for the Rebellion, and I'm so glad you're alive."

"Thanks, I guess," Lottie mumbled. "What have I done for the Rebellion, exactly?"

"You've become a bit of a celebrity recently," Jax explained excitedly, pulling a datapad from a neighboring chair and typing on it quickly. "You're in the top 20 Wanted list."

Lottie raised an eyebrow. Technically, she already  _was._ She had been her whole life.

"You're the only person to ever escape the  _Executor,_ " Leia explained at Lottie's confused face. "Your mugshot is everywhere. People are really taking it as a symbol."

The datapad turned, and Lottie looked to see her own face. Some features remained as she knew them; curly, messy red hair, a scar down her left eye, the eye half-white from that same scar, uneven cheeks from the scars on her face and lips, hazel eyes, thin lips, button nose. She barely recognized the rest of her; face covered in blood, hair almost thin in places, the outlines of her cheekbones dangerously visible as her colorless skin stretched over them. Her face was contorted into a smile, yellow, sharpened teeth bared as she looked down to the camera with hooded eyes. Her left arm was raised to show her prison number, the formless shirt she was wearing covered in caked-on blood.

"Huh," she said, after a moment. She didn't quite know how to feel about it. In a sick way, she was proud. She looked formidable and badass, two things she constantly aspired to be. But people admiring a picture of her at possibly the worst time of her life felt supremely wrong.

"Everyone leave, I need to speak to the patient alone." Todd's crisp, posh Coruscanti accent cut through the thick air. Lottie never thought to think of the pompous man as a relief until she was saved from commenting on her picture. "Now, please."

"I'll see you guys later," Lottie whispered, her bed becoming significantly lighter as Wedge sat up off of it, giving her hand a last squeeze as he guided the others out of the room.

Todd waited with eyebrows raised as the door closed, and then huffed in annoyance as he turned to Lottie, checking her vitals without speaking to her.

"How bad am I?" she said finally, her voice polite, but almost hushed.

"Not good. What did you do to yourself in there?"

"What  _Vader_ did," Lottie corrected.

"You should be on a wheelchair for two weeks," he began, his voice cold and detached. "Broken ankle, as you suspected, along with various other leg injuries we found. No appendicitis. You may want to have reconstructive surgery on your breasts, but that's more of a cosmetic decision, so think about that. You were severely starved and malnourished, so I sent that Skywalker boy a diet plan of what you should be eating for the next two months before you can eat normal food again. Even then, keep it light for a few months. No alcohol."

"Are you serious?" Lottie groaned. " _Fuck_ Vader."

"Oh-" he said, turning to Lottie before he left the room. "You can't have kids."

Lottie could barely register what Todd had said, his voice ringing in her ears as he spoke those words, casually and clinically. "What? I mean, everything  _works,_ I just need," she turned red, "the  _other_ part of the equation-"

"No. Whatever Vader did, he somehow twisted your Fallopian tubes so your eggs can't reach your uterus normally. You may still have periods, but it is highly unlikely you'll have a child."

"What?!" All of a sudden, all of it came crashing down. Her dream to have a child with someone, anyone. Taking care of Pazima and Wedge's child, feeling her enlarged stomach as a man hugged her from behind, bringing honor to her family as her child was presented to Horrificus, announced in her father's voice, all of it-gone, in a matter of seconds. Hot, angry tears rushed to her face, her sadness mixing with rage as she lifted her medical shift up to look at her vagina, rearranging the sheets so Todd could not see. "You're joking," she said finally, slamming her hands in between her knees and looking up at Todd.

"I'm not," he said, turned towards the door, not seeming to register her sobs. "It's better for you that way, anyway. Nothing to stop you from your mission. Good night, Charlotte."

He closed the door as Lottie flung a blood pressure belt at him, her scream feral as she collapsed onto the bed, her entire frame racked with sobs as she mourned the future Vader had took from her, the last good dream Charlotte Reynard dreamed.


	12. Chapter 12

Lottie's wheelchair sat idle as she wrapped gauze around her left arm, hair damp as the tattoo bled from how much she had scratched at it. She didn't really need another injury, but it turned out that brands didn't just go away by how much you dug overgrown nails into them.

It was something she should have learned by now, she mused. Given that she had tried to scratch out the Helina vines when she was thirteen and ashamed when men would yell "whore" at her from across the med bay, to no avail. Her prison number was no different.

The blood rose and then spread across the bandage like paint as Lottie taped it shut, sitting in front of one of the mirrors on the Prophet's large fresher. She squeezed her hair, letting the water soak into the towel as she gazed at herself in the mirror, piling the white fabric on top of her head.

She hadn't properly looked at herself in seven months, opposed to the irrecognizable creature in, apparently, the galaxy's most popular wanted poster. That Lottie really was a creature, a bloodthirsty, vile, spitting creature that only cared about surviving to the next day. Some part of her she kept hidden. Now, the creature that stared back at her had some color returned to her mismatched cheeks, the purple faded slightly from under her eyes, some semblance of her puffy cheeks returning. Her teeth weren't as bad as they used to be, either. She was glad _that_ surgery had been avoided. Sharpened, sure, by a stolen fork on long, sleepless nights, the inhuman sound nearly making her ears bleed as she whittled her canines down to needles. 

The towel she had used to cover herself had previously opened. Lottie stood, keeping the towel covering her hair but otherwise naked. She lightly traced the scar that extended from her collarbone to her navel, deep and red and raw, stitch marks still visible. It was probably the worst of all of them. Even the scar on the underside of her breasts, cutting their already small mass into an odd three-fourths shape, wasn't as bad as that one, nearly as deep as the scar that cut her left eye. Her hand stopped briefly below her belly button, scars cutting across her gut as she traced across her abdomen.

_No kids._

It was a devastating, yet ridiculous notion. Plenty of women can't have kids. Plenty of women don't  _want_ kids. Lottie remembered Iris telling her of the sacrifice she made when she transitioned-the hormones that would turn her body more womanly also made her sterile. It seemed so terrible to Lottie, even though Iris was casual upon the retelling. Lottie had just always imagined a future with two or three little curly haired toddlers running around as she baked, far away from the terror and pain of war. At one time, she had imagined Luke with her, but in her heart, she knew it was too much of a fantasy. That life had left her as soon as she was made in a lab, as soon as the bombs dropped over Horrificus. 

Maybe that was the worst of it all. She had never been particularly pretty-the ruining of her torso didn't bother her, and neither did the fact that her face currently resembled a skeleton. At her best, Lottie looked like an overdone bulldog in too much eyeliner. Always pouty and scarred, jaw set as if ready to fight. She had just hoped that, for some reason, Luke had found that overdone bulldog face attractive, and would want to kiss it again.

Wiping away a tear, Lottie briefly reminded herself to ditch her own self-pity. She had had seven months to wallow in it, and that was something she hated, wallowing. She turned to the familiar tattered, olive green duffel bag near her, a smile returning to her face as she ruffled through the clothes she had packed so long ago. The damp towel on her head dropped to the counter as Lottie picked up an old scarf, noisy jewelry adorning the hem, the spiral pattern ornate in purple and gold. It was classic Coruscanti.

Her tattooed hands worked in a familiar pattern as she wrapped her head in it, pulling thinning curly hair into a ball as she let the ends of the scarf hang down, pinning it into place with old gold pins. She liked how it looked, but she hadn't been in a headscarf for quite a while. In Coruscanti culture, she had already reached marriageable age at the tender thirteen, and then you lost the scarf, lost the demure clothes, became a creature of adornment and beauty. However, she had done the most unthinkable; she cut her hair, using it as a disguise. Her hair thinned. Women  _never_ cut their hair if they were Coruscanti; if they had hair, it was long and thick and beautiful. One aspect of her appearance she had prided herself on. She didn't feel right unless she covered it, reverting back to the ways of a child.

The clothes she put on would be hot, but they covered it all; the torso scars, the prison number. It would do.

She knew who she needed to be, for herself. The girl she was after Horrificus. Quiet, obedient, lost in her own thoughts, scared. It had worked for her then. Throw herself into work and recovery of her body and she would be fine.

She could talk to Wedge. Wedge was the closest thing to Pazima she had. Wedge had known her longer than anyone else alive besides Todd. Luke had once been her confidant, and she liked that-but she couldn't do that right now. She couldn't handle her complicated feelings for him, couldn't handle him staring at her with pity. Wedge would do. He didn't do pity. He did blunt talk, and calling her "little girl." He was currently in a phase of remembering their happy days when she was thirteen and just met Pazima, and she could do with reliving those days.

She sat in the wheelchair, finally, eye makeup overdone and eyeliner too thick as she prepared to become Lottie-After-Prison, Lottie-After-Pazima. She needed to be strong, and she needed to recover, and she needed to face each day like she did after Horrificus. Don't wallow in pity, don't wallow in it. Just struggle through.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a heads-up, I've made minor changes to Chapter 11 to reflect a future plot point.

Lottie rolled in her wheelchair into her makeshift Tatooine room, tugging the headscarf on her head. It had been a week since she had returned to the world, and it still didn't feel real. It all felt like a dream, or a continuation of that nightmare that started when Pazima was shot in the head. Killed on sight. A perfect shot. Pazima would have been proud of her killer.

Wiping a sly tear from her eye, she looked up to see Luke Skywalker jumping up, dropping the medical equipment he was holding.

"Lottie! What are you doing here?"

"It's my room," she said plainly, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just...checking up some of this stuff Todd left. He left me instructions on your care."

Lottie sighed. "Of course he did." She rolled up to where he was standing, holding her hand out. "I'll take those now, thank you." Her voice was sharp, direct. It was colder than she intended; she didn't  _want_ to be mean to Luke, but it was hard for her to think of anything but her prison sentence when she looked at him. A part of her, a part she didn't like, even blamed him for it. She had the distinct feeling that Luke felt her apathy towards him, by the way he seemed to say every word as if he was treading on a bed of nails.

"Yeah, sure." He handed her the supplies, a needle and small mirror, and stood awkwardly in front of her. "Are you okay?" Lottie responded to him with a look, and he quickly redacted. "Sorry, dumb question."

"It's okay," she said. "Just looking out for me." After a pause, she spoke again. "Honestly, I-it's not the medical stuff that bothers me. I mean, I feel like shit. I just-I don't feel like myself, y'know? After....she died."

"Mmm." Luke nodded. "You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

Todd seemed nice," Luke began.

"He's not," Lottie said quickly, slamming the supplies down with unnecessary force. "Don't be fooled."

"I helped him save your life," Luke pointed out.

Lottie gave a short laugh, wheeling to take some clothes out of her duffel bag. "Yeah, something he's just _so_ happy to do. Listen, I gotta ask you something," she said directly, turning to him and crossing her arms. The bark had certainly not left her voice.

"Okay, what is it?"

"Did you tell him?"

"Tell who what?"

"Tell Todd. About us."

"Oh, so there's an  _us_?" Luke teased.

Lottie rolled her eyes. "Are you  _seriously_ pulling that shit now? I just got out of prison."

"Hey, you brought it up." He raised his hands in defense. "And to be fair, we didn't really leave whatever  _we_ are on the most comprehensible note."

"Whatever that means," Lottie dismissed. "Listen, I'm being serious."

Luke sighed. "Yeah. I did. I told him about...how we left things one night."

"Holy fucking shit," Lottie rubbed at her temples, a panicky knot in her stomach finally unraveling. "Luke, please leave and get Wedge," she said quickly.

"Lot, what's-"

"Don't call me that!" Lottie snapped, smacking his helpful hand away as she exploded into tears. "Please, please get Wedge."

"Okay, okay, okay."

In his absence, Lottie crawled onto the bed, tears rolling down her face as she pressed her forehead into the rough fabric of her pillowcase, only rising as Wedge's panicked form entered the room.

"Luke told me what happened," he said quickly, rushing to Lottie and putting her head in his arms, letting her cry in his lap. "Don't worry, Todd isn't doing anything."

"I know," Lottie said. "But that's why he gave him all the medical stuff, and not you. He  _wanted_ him to fuck up."

"I didn't know he told him about all of that," Wedge said. "I didn't even know until now."

"Don't lie."

"Okay, Jax might have told me," Wedge admitted. "Don't worry, Lottie. Todd's gone. He's not going to hurt you. I made Jax install a few cameras in here just to make sure."

"You didn't tell him about Todd did you?" Lottie asked quickly, worried eyes brimming with tears.

"No," Wedge gave a half-hearted chuckle. "Y'know, that's been a major point of contention. 'Why we hate Todd so much.'"

"If only they knew," Lottie said, almost wistfully.

"If only they knew."

The two are quiet for a moment, Wedge petting Lottie's hair as she cried quietly, sobbing into his chest as the two laid on the bed.

"I miss Pazzy," she said after a moment.

"I know, baby. I do too."

"Did you know she was pregnant? When she died?" She tilted her head to look at him.

"Yeah, she told me."

"And?"

"We weren't gonna keep it," he admitted. "I wanted to, but-" he sighed, "I guess it just wasn't in the stars for us."

"I'm sorry," Lottie said meekly. "It's all my fault she-"

"No." Wedge said firmly. "None of that. You hear me? It is no one's fault she died, least of all yours. You  _know_ she was in constant danger. You were trying to do the right thing by going with them."

"It just isn't fair. I should have died. I wasn't pregnant. No one wants me around anyways."

"I want you around," Wedge cooed. "Jax wants you around. Luke wants you around."

"I don't want him around," Lottie muttered.

"Why not? Last I checked you were head over heels, baby girl."

"That was before I had to hear his name every single fucking day in prison."

"It's not his fault."

"Telling Todd _was_ his fault."

"How was he supposed to know? Look Lottie, you wanna be mad at someone? Be mad at Darth Vader for doing this to you. Be mad at Todd for all of the fucked up shit he did to you when you were twelve years old. Be mad at the guard that killed you sister."

"I don't have to be mad at the guard any more," Lottie replied, some semblance of a smile returning.

"And why is that?"

"I ripped his jugular out of his neck with my teeth."

"Holy shit," Wedge marveled, raised impressed eyebrows as Lottie looked up at him, laughing a naughty child's laugh. "I swear to the gods, you are just the cutest, most fucked up person."

"Thank you."

"'When the Reynards do revenge, they do it well,'" Wedge quoted.

"Margeaux said that after I chopped-"

"Todd's dick off," they chorused, both of them exploding with laughter.

"We're the worst people I've ever met," Wedge said incredulously.

"The absolute worst," Lottie agreed.

"Pazima, wherever you are," Wedge kissed Lottie's hands and raised it to a fist in the sky, "This one's for you, honey."

"Still ripping throats and cutting dicks off!" Lottie cried out, collapsing into laughter again.

"You feel better?"

"Yeah, I do."

"You want me to stay tonight?"

"Will you?"

"Of course."


	14. Chapter 14

Gathering her courage, Lottie stepped out into the Tatooine night, shrugging her overlarge sweatshirt onto her shoulders, pulling at the hem of the sleeves. She remembered what Wedge had told her- _Make amends._ And he was right. She should make amends. Her circle of trust was already so small, and she had lost the foremost member of that circle, the person who knew more even than Wedge, even than Luke. Wedge didn't even know about her parents-Luke did. To be fair, Wedge did know about Todd, so they were almost equal trust partners. For now. But she did need to talk to him. Luke was still one of her closest friends.

"Hey," she said lightly, looking at Luke. He was sitting with his eyes closed, wind rushing through his hair, legs crossed.

"Oh. Hi Lottie." He looked up and smiled at her, motioning for her to sit next to him.

She didn't take him up on his offer, instead crossing her arms and taking a tentative step closer. "Listen, I wanted to apologize for what I said yesterday."

He held his hand up. "Don't. I should apologize, I realize how rude and inappropriate it was for me to bring... _that_ up. I was just trying to mess with you."

"Heh," Lottie snorted. "Nah, I get it. I don't really think you was in the wrong. It ain't your fault. I don't think anyone knows 'ow to treat me anymore," Lottie mused, giving a shaky laugh. "Jax asked me today if he was gonna get good Lottie or bad Lottie."

"And what did you say?" Luke asked.

"I said I didn't know. I still don't know." She finally sat next to Luke, settling with a definitive  _plop._ Bridging the gap. "I feel like I don't know anythin' anymore."

"Hm," Luke acknowledged, as if searching for something to say. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What's with the-" Luke mimed a circle around his head, indicating Lottie's scarf.

"Ah," Lottie acknowledged, giving an almost embarrassed smile. "Yeah, um, it's just-well, I 'ad to cut my 'air in prison. To escape."

"So-"

"So I ain't never cut my hair before. An'-well-on Coruscant, you weren't supposed to. If you were a girl."

"Oh," Luke understood. "How much did you have to cut?"

Lottie didn't respond, only gave him an approximation with her hands, giving about six inches.

"That's not  _so_ bad."

"It is for me," Lottie defended, giving a shaky laugh. "I ain't even ever cut it if I 'ad real bad split ends. Though trust me, sometimes I wanted to."

They both laughed then. "Oh trust me, I remember how much you hated doing your hair in the mornings."

"You used to get up early just so I could have an hour and a half in the bathroom."

"Remember how Jax used to say you were a demon? I assumed you were communing with one of the Devils then."

Lottie laughed then, full hearted. "Oh Luke," she sighed, resting her forehead on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around him, squeezing her eyes shut. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Lot." He wrapped his elbows around her arms, a small gesture, but important nonetheless. Lottie felt his chest rise and fall, and then rise, taking a deep breath as if gathering courage. "Lot, I gotta tell you something." His voice turned serious, and Lottie drew away from him, pulling the top of the scarf forward and folding her hands in front of her.

"What is it?" She perked up, willing to listen.

"I-well-as you know, Darth Vader is...kind of obsessed with me, but it got worse. Way worse. He...Okay. Sorry, I have no idea how to start this."

Lottie put her hand on his. "It's alright. I'm listening."

"Well, when I was on Dagobah, y'know, Jedi School, as you call it, I learned how to connect with the Force in a way where I got these...visions. That's the best word for it, really, visions. I kept getting visions of Han and Leia, and, well, it was what happened to Han, I'm sure someone's told you."

Lottie shook her head. "No one's told me nothin'."

"Oh. Well, Vader basically knew we were friends...somehow. Probably that Ord Mantell mission that went terribly, you remember. In any case, he lured them to Bespin, and Han was put in carbonite."

"Carbonite?"

"Basically metal," Luke explained. "He's alive, but, in metal."

"Okay. Even when I turned you into a drug dealer is  _not_ as crazy as that, but okay."

Luke laughed, but continued. "I thought if I went to Bespin, I could stop what I saw. But...I couldn't. I wasn't ready. My teacher and...well, I was told I wasn't ready. But I went anyways, and I did more damage than good." He snorted. "The only good thing I did was bring Artoo."

"Luke, I'm sure-"

"Sorry, Lot, I just gotta...keep going."

"Okay. Sorry."

"Anyways, I got back to base and met up with Wedge and Jax. I had no idea you were missing. I had no idea Paz died. It hit me real bad. But then it got worse. I started having these...dreams. Visions."

As soon as Luke said this, Lottie drew back, mind reeling. She knew what they were of, but she was too horrified to say anything. 

"Not of the future, but what was happening to you. It all started with you in this cafeteria, I guess. Your friend got beat up and you were dragged into this torture chamber. _Vader's_ torture chamber. And-Lottie, the stuff I saw, it was so bad. He wanted me to see it." Luke wiped tears from his eyes, his voice shaking. He took a deep breath and continued. "He wanted me to come to him and rescue you. I wanted to, so bad. But Wedge and Jax talked me into staying, and they were right. It would have been suicide. But-Lottie, I feel so guilty that I didn't. Then, the visions got way worse. He started projecting-images of you into my mind. And-Lottie, I know everything. I know about your-"

"Don't say it," Lottie said, standing up abruptly, holding back tears, anger and sadness mixed in your voice. "You're saying that those three months-those last three months when I was dying, you could have done something, but you  _didn't_?"

"Lottie, I-"

Lottie's anger was slowly boiling over. "And you saw  _everything_? You know  _everything?_ My...private...problems?"

Luke nodded. "I'm so sorry."

"Luke, I-"

"Lottie, please, you have to understand-"

"I don't think we should be friends for a while," Lottie choked, slapping his hand away. "That wasn't something I was ready to share with you. With  _anyone._ "

"I didn't have a choice-"

"You did!" Lottie exploded. "You could have rescued me!"

"We would have died!" Luke protested, standing up. "You included!"

"Well, now you've killed my children," Lottie hissed, her voice dropping dangerously. "I'm infertile, because of  _you._ "

"Don't say that-"

"It's the truth!" Lottie shouted. "I spent seven months in that  _hell_ for you. And you don't even have the decency to try to formulate a rescue plan. Instead, you go for  _Han."_ She spat his name.

"You can't ask me to choose one person over another." Luke's voice rising. "Lottie, that's not fair."

"It is. Did Han spend six months in a torture chamber for you? Did Han  _starve_ for you? Every  _damn_ day in that prison, that's all I heard. Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker. And now I know why. I was going to _die_ for you."

"It's not my fault! I didn't  _ask_ to have Vader obsessed with me. I didn't  _ask_ to lose a hand because of him. I didn't  _ask_ to see your torture."

"Oh, boo hoo, you lost a hand, I lost my fucking fertility. Grow the  _fuck_ up." Lottie turned to leave, but then flipped her head sharply to him.

"I'm glad you saw it. I hope you have to live with that guilt every night for the rest of you life. I hope you suffer."


	15. Chapter 15

 

"Oh, I forgot-I got a present for you."

Jax Collins stuck a tanned hand into his bag, fumbling around for something. Lottie stood with her arms crossed, glancing around at the Tatooine sky. She could tell why Luke abhorred the planet; she did too, the fabric covering her scars sticking to her body with sweat from her daily walks, the sky a dull blue, barely visible with the twin suns' light.

"You shouldn't look directly at the sky," Jax scolded, bringing her attention back to him. "Your eyes have always been sensitive."

"Who are you, Dr. Jax Collins?" Lottie's gaze returned to her friends' face, itching the top of her forehead.

"I could be, if I didn't get kicked out of school," he muttered, shoving a hastily wrapped package in her arms. "Go on, open it."

Lottie gave Jax a suspicious look, but squealed in surprise when she saw the new, black sheaths of new swords, the handles wrapped with precision. "Oh, Jax, I love them!"

"Thanks," he replied, returning the hug she gave him. "Paz and I designed them a while back. Nothing new, just lighter."

Lottie's face faltered a little with the mention of her sister, but soon returned to its former glee, unsheathing one of the swords and turning it in her expert fingers, the weight comforting in her hands. "How did you get the materials? We 'aven't had good sword metal in a while."

"Erm," Jax hesitated. "Well, me and Luke found it, really. Bartered on the ship to get these in case you ever came back."

Lottie's face fell with a frustrated "humph." Choosing not to respond to Jax, she instead tested the sharpness of the sword, running her index finger along the edge until it drew blood. Sucking the blood off her finger, her bounced on her toes, turning from side to side like a playful child. "So this is a Sorry-We-Didn't-Rescue-You-Gift?"

"Well, partially. I also felt bad cause you can't do shit. Oh-and your sister is dead."

"Way to remind me of how shitty my life currently is, Jax, thanks." She stuck the sword back in its sheaths, turning to face the direction they came. "C'mon. We should be gettin' back. I can't push myself too hard yet."

Swinging the swords so the straps crossed between her breasts, one over each shoulder, she started out, leaving Jax to catch up.

"Y'know, you shouldn't blame Luke for the whole not rescuing you thing. It was our idea. Wedge's and mine, I mean. Luke wanted to real bad."

Lottie sighed. "Yeah, I know," she replied thoughtfully.

"Then why haven't you spoken to him in two weeks?"

A laugh escaped the assassin's lips. "So he sent you to figure this out, huh?"

"No, I sent myself. He sent me to send a message, but I ain't tellin' you that until I find out why it's gotta go through me."

" _Ay mon,_ " Lottie whispered to herself in Coruscanti, shaking her head as she looked again to the horizon. "You got that canteen?"

Jax passed her the bottle half filled with water, the topic avoided still hanging heavily between them. "You wore less clothes when we were on Hoth," Jax observed, looking her up and down.

"Your point is?" Lottie looked at Jax from the side,

"You're wearing a turtleneck on a planet with twin suns. Number one, you never wear turtlenecks. Number two, need I reiterate the fact that Tatooine has  _twin suns_?"

"I don't need to explain my fashion choices to you, Jax Collins."

"Fine. Then explain why you're not talking to Luke."

Lottie shook her head, screwing the cap on the canteen and handing it back to him. "You're impossible. Fine. He saw some things he shouldn't have seen."

"Your boobs. He saw your boobs and that's why you're dressing like a Bakura nun."

Lottie nearly choked laughing, shaking her head, smiling despite herself. "If I dressed like this every time someone saw my boobs, I'd be all covered up since I was thirteen."

"Fine. What did he see? Is it that Force stuff?"

"He told you about it?"

"Yeah. That's how we found you in the first place."

"Oh. I didn't know that. But-yeah, that was part of it. It was also just, well. I don't want to talk about it," Lottie said finally, a hand automatically covering her stomach.

"Fine, I won't push."

"You said he had a message?" Lottie asked, her voice providing a slight openness.

"He says to meet him tonight. He wants to apologize."

* * *

 

"The fuck do you want?"

Lottie met Luke with her arms crossed, her new swords swung behind her back. She was prepared for battle, standing on the same set of steps where they had previously talked a week before.

"Not to fight," Luke said, approaching her with his arms above his head. "Thank you for meeting me."

"Get on with it," Lottie sighed frustratedly. "I want to sleep."

"I'm sorry," Luke began.

"Good, you should be. Now if that's all-" Lottie turned to leave, but Luke took a tentative step closer, 

"It's not. I wasn't truthful with you that night."

"Great," Lottie groaned, rolling her eyes. "Just what I wanted to hear."

"You're not gonna want to hear this," Luke said. "No one should. But you should."

"What is it?" Lottie said. "I can hear anything."

"I-realize why you're mad at me. For seeing what I saw. It wasn't my right to see it. It was your private torture. Your suffering. And I should have had no part in witnessing it, or seeing it."

"You should have fucking-"

"I'm getting to that. I realize you can never be one hundred percent honest with me. I understand that. I’m not going to lie to you, sometimes it makes me sad. But I owe it to you to be honest. I should be honest with you, even if you will never be honest with me."

"What are you saying?" Lottie sat on the steps first, her expression slowly going from angry to intrigued.

"The first three months you were in prison, I had no idea." Luke joined her, sitting with a purposeful distance from her on the same step. "I was on Dagobah, learning from a Jedi Master. I was getting in touch with the Force, but obviously it wasn't great yet. I have no idea what happened to you those first three months."

"I was being tortured. For information," Lottie explained. "That round he actually asked me questions." Every word out of her mouth had a sharpness, like a bee sting. Meant to cause pain. "No reason not to tell you now, since you know everythin' else."

Luke looked at her for a moment, purposefully choosing not to look at him. She felt him flinch at her words, but suppressed the guilt. _He deserves it._ "I-I'm getting to that. When I got images from Bespin, I went over as soon as I could to save Han and Leia. As you know, I failed." He paused, expecting another barb from Lottie, instead recieving silence.

"The real reason I couldn't save you in prison was because of something Vader told me. You're absolutely right. He captured you to get to me. The second three months of torture, those were just for my eyes. He knew we were...close, so he hurt you so I would give myself up to him. He did it with Han and Leia, because besides you, they're the most important people in my life. And I failed them. I couldn't fail you."

 

"He kept torturing you, trying to bring me to the Dark Side, to give up my humanity.  I thought, well, with Han and Leia, I thought it was just some sick obsession. But then-" he paused, to laugh for a moment, "turns out, it wasn't. Turns out he's my father."

Lottie, staring ahead into the night, suddenly glanced up. "No," she whispered, finally looking at Luke. "Luke, that's not true."

"Heh," Luke laughed awkwardly. "Funnily enough, that's exactly what I said. Right after he told me. Right after he cut my hand off. I thought-well, I still  _think_ -he could be lying. I mean, it's a possibility. But everything I've felt, after everything that's happened, I'm starting to think it's true."

"But your father is Anakin Skywalker. He died saving the children-"

"Did he? His body was never found."

Lottie stopped to think. "This is so fucked up, Luke." She put her fingertips to her temples.

"It is. I haven't told anyone this. Not even Leia, or Jax, or Wedge. I thought-since I saw things you didn't want me to see, you should see a part of me that I don't want you to see either. The worst part is, Lottie, you were right. About all of it. I had a-well, I'm not really sure what it was. I think Vader planted it. But it was a vision of a possible future. We were, erm,  _together,_ I guess you could say. And you were pregnant. With my baby. But then when I refused to join him he-He said you would never have children. I saw it, Lottie. You're right, you're infertile because of me." Finally, he let tears flow, his voice cracking, hot and guilty.

After a moment, hands still pressed to her temples, she clasped them in front of her. "No, I'm not."

"What?"

"You heard me. I'm not. Your  _father_ did this." She turned to kneel in front of him, hands grasping his knees as he continued to sob. "It's his fault, not yours. And it was wrong of me to say it the first time you told me. I'm sorry," she said sincerely.

"You don't have to apologize to me-"

"I do. I didn't realize what you were going through and how absolutely  _fucked up_ this all is. It's not your fault."

"Thank you," Luke said finally, wiping tears from his eyes. "Do you forgive me?"

"There's nothing for me to forgive."

"I didn't save you."

"I'm the Fox," Lottie said finally, standing up and turning to leave. "I can save myself. Good night, Luke Skywalker."

"Night, Lottie."


	16. Chapter 16

"Hey, move your feet more next time." Wedge yelled at Lottie as she swiped the sword at Luke's throat.

"Move your ass, Wedge, or I'll cut it clean off," she said, taking a gulp of water from the bottle he handed her.

"I swear to the Gods, Lottie, your threats never make any sense."

"They're still threats." Lottie twirled her swords with an instinctive grace. "C'mon Luke, again."

Luke gazed up at her, feet planted in the sand dune, hands on his knees. "Gimme a minute," he panted, drinking water that Jax handed to him, and then spoke again. "You shouldn't be training so hard."

"And I shouldn't be kicking your arse so hard, and yet here I am. The galaxy works in mysterious ways." She bowed to Luke mockingly, sticking her tongue in her cheek. "Jax, how are my vitals doing?"

"Luke is right."

"Are you fucking-"

"Lottie, you're pushing yourself."

"I won!"

"I  _let_ you win," Luke countered playfully.

"Hey. I'm the cocky one. It isn't a good look for you."

"Technically, I'm the cocky one," Jax piped up, but almost instantly quieted down. "Right. Lottie, I'm serious."

"Fine," she huffed, drawing it out like a pouty child. "But I want to fight."

"Quit your whining, psycho," Wedge said, tugging at the wires on her body, tracking her vitals. "What's so important that you gotta cover up, anyways?"

"Wedge, you are literally turning into a creepy old man before my very eyes," Lottie said, struggling to reach underneath her turtleneck shirt to peel the sensor from her flesh.

"Lottie, I can-"

"Don't touch me!" Lottie growled, grabbing Jax's wrist, previously reaching a helpful gesture, her grip so strong it could break bone. For a moment, the remains of the Fox Squadron stopped, staring at the mad glint in Lottie's eyes held briefly, but faded away as she shook her head, as if coming out of a trance.

"Sorry," she mumbled, letting go of his wrist, scratching at the headwrap that covered her hair. "I'm...I'm so sorry Jax, I don't know why-"

"Hey, it's okay," Jax said, rubbing at his wrist. "I should know better than to startle an assassin."

She gave a shaky laugh. "I think you're right, Jax, we should be done training for today," she said, her hands shaking as she continued to undo the sensors.

"You guys go on ahead," Luke said, stepping closer to Lottie. "I'll help clean everything up."

As the other two began to fade into the endless sand, Lottie sank to her knees, her head touching the ground. "I cannot believe I did that."

"It's fine, you were startled," he replied, a bit preoccupied with picking up supplies. "Don't beat yourself up over it."

"I nearly broke his wrist."

"You stabbed me once."

"That was an accident," Lottie defended, suddenly jerking her head from the sand. "And it's not like the wound was fatal."

"Yeah, but it  _hurt._ I think I still have a scar."

"Oh, boo-hoo," Lottie said sarcastically, getting up and tracing the scar down her left eye. Hitching her duffel bag over her shoulder, she joined Luke as he began to walk back to their Tatooine base.

After a small pause, not typical in their previous conversations, Luke spoke. "How're you holding up?"

"What do you mean?" Lottie asked, brow furrowed.

"Y'know, Paz."

Lottie sighed, as if preparing her words. "I miss her, but...I don't know. Our entire relationship was founded on the fact that she would die and I would take her place. I miss her terribly, y'know. Every day I want to talk to her. And I still feel like there's a part of me that's gone, like losing her was like losing a leg, and I have to live without it. But, I'm okay. Really, I am." She ended the last part with a smile, eyes crinkling in the sun.

"That's good." Luke scowled as Lottie fumbled with her bag, pulling out a pack of cigarras. "You just got back from prison, you're on the hottest planet probably in known existence, and you're  _smoking_?"

"Oh, shut up," Lottie said, puffing out smoke. "I'd wager Mustafar is  _definitely_ hotter than Tatooine."

They both gave a small laugh at her comment. "Can I ask you something?"

"Oh no," Lottie replied playfully.

"You don't-you don't think of me  _differently_ now because of-?"

"Because of your father?" Lottie finished. "No."

"He tortured you."

"Yeah, and?"

"To get to me."

Lottie turned, her large eyes turning larger. "Luke, I really am sorry for what I said-"

"It's not that," Luke dismissed, waving his hand. "I just can't figure it out. Anyone else would be freaking out."

"Well, I'm not anyone else, am I? And if someone thinks of you differently because of your father, who you don't know, whom you have  _never known,_ then they're assholes."

"How do you always know exactly what to say?"

"You may be a different man now, Luke Skywalker, but I still know you."


	17. Chapter 17

"So you're staying in my room, huh?" Leia turned to greet Lottie the following evening, shaking sand from her pillow as the other woman crossed to the small cot on the opposite side of the room, dropping off a large duffel bag.

"Yeah." Lottie flashed her a smile, her gap between her front teeth showing in her too-large grin. "'Ope you don't mind."

"No, not at all. It's quite nice, actually. I'm just surprised."

"Why?" Lottie turned to Leia as she made her bed, flattening white sheets with a medic's precision.

"Well, I assumed you would be rooming with Luke."

Lottie snorted. "No, I'm not sure if I'm ready for that again."

"Why not? You two were practically conjoined at the hip."

"We're still  _friends,_ " Lottie insisted defensively. "We both just need space."

"I understand," Leia said, nodding diplomatically and dropping the subject. "Charlotte, I-"

"Lottie, Gods. Charlotte is what my sister says-erm, said-to make me stop doin' dumb shit."

"Lottie. Sorry, about your sister, by the way."

"You're alright." Lottie quickly changed the topic again. "Mind if you turn your back? I need to change."

"Oh, sure." Leia obliged, bouncing on her toes. "I wanted to ask you about your home."

"Don't got one."

"You did, though. Horrificus."

"Oh, right. That."

"You...must have felt the same way I do." Leia's breath drew between her teeth and quickly turned as she only glimpsed Lottie's back, red and marred with scars, but most prominently, crimson needle marks lining her spine, some still purple, some with green skin underneath.

"You talkin' 'bout your own family? You can turn around now." Lottie pulled the headscarf from her head, revealing the red mane underneath. "Don't laugh, okay?"

"I'm not laughing," Leia replied, decidedly not looking at the line down Lottie's chest visible in her sleep shirt. "How do you deal with it?"

"I don't," Lottie replied honestly, after a few moments. "I'm different. Not much I can do about it though."

"Yes, I suppose not. Good night, Lottie."

"'Night."

* * *

 

The sound of a knock shook Lottie awake, her shaking grip tightening on the knife under her pillow. She took a minute to remind herself where she was. Tatooine, not prison. Shared room, not alone. She'd be fine.

"Who is it?" Lottie asked hoarsely, still gripping the knife.

"Luke."

Lottie groaned, bare feet curling in the sand as she crossed the room to open the door, leaving the knife stowed under her pillow.

"What's going on?" Leia mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"Nothing, go back to sleep," Lottie dismissed, turning. "What's going on?"

"Grab your stuff. We've got a vomit situation you need to take care of."

Lottie's head instantly decoded Luke's message, crossing the room again to get her bag.

"What's the emergency?" Lottie asked, as Luke closed the door behind her.

"A dream I had."

"You woke me up for a fucking dream?"

"Not like that-hey, you're not wearing that scarf thing!"

"I don't  _sleep_ in it."

"Someone's grumpy this morning."

"It's stupid o'clock, and I have to-"

"It's Pazima," Luke cut Lottie off instantly, the name of her dead sister stopping her dead in her tracks. "She's reached out to me. Through the Force."

"Luke, what the hell," Lottie replied, folding her arms as she leaned against a wall of their hut. "How? She wasn't a Jedi."

"I don't know. She just said to go to Mos Eisley, there's some Imperial there."

"Well, let's wake Wedge and-"

"She says we need to do it. Alone."

"Oh, and what else, you gonna give me shoes this time?" Lottie spat.

"If you're gonna be disagreeable, you can just go back to sleep. I'm  _trying_ to help your sister find peace, but if you don't want that-"

"Fine, fine, I'm sorry," Lottie replied, putting her hands up in defeat. "What's his name?"

"Baron A'aric Kenson. Have you heard of him?"

"No, never 'ave." Lottie took out her datapad, searching through some files. "We could really use Jax's-"

"I'm not one to disobey the dead. Particularly your sister, as I have the feeling if I disrespected her, she would find a way to blast me in the head in the afterlife."

"You know, we don't kill our friends-"

Luke instantly mocked Lottie's accent. "'An' if you tell anyone dis, I'll kill-" He stopped when Lottie punched him lightly in the shoulder, stifling her laugh with her teeth, continuing to scroll on her datapad.

"It says he was some Imperial bridge between Xuhiri government. That's probably it, I'll see if I can't find more."

"Can I see?"

"No, my datapad's in Coruscanti. Besides, you can't read while flying, right?" 

Lottie stepped out into the night, the scars in her back in full view as she squinted her eyes at the horizon, the suns still yet to rise. The moonlight turned her pale skin a dusty purple, her bare toes still curled in the sand.

"Well, c'mon. Are you with me or no?"


	18. Chapter 18

The speeder ride passed in silence, Lottie passing the time by attempting to find information on A'aric Kenson, ultimately coming up short. She blamed it on the terrible Coruscanti translation, sentences going backwards and Basic words jutting in for words the limited language did not have. Occasionally, she would ask Luke for a definition, but other than that, she remained quiet, focusing on her work.

Truthfully, she liked the quiet. To say that resuming their old banter was a challenge was an understatement; every attempt was interrupted by something. Mostly her, if she really thought about it. She didn't feel like talking about anything. She hadn't for quite some time.

And if she was being honest with herself, she wasn't  _ready_ for it yet. She knew where their friendship would go, Luke had told her himself.

She finally looked up, knees curled in the seat of the trailer, putting her datapad down with a sigh. She gazed out of the side of the ship, her hand turning to match the gust from the speeder. She closed her eyes and unknowingly stretched to meet the heat of the suns, smiling at the warmth.

"It's pretty," she finally commented, turning to Luke.

He gave a short laugh, looking around at his surroundings, the sky a mixture of blue and orange. "I suppose," he finally replied. "I never liked it here."

"Yeah, I know," Lottie replied, sensing he wanted to change the subject. "I've come up with nothing. He was an Imperial officer on Xuhiri, but got relocated."

"Did you try going past some of the security?" Luke asked.

"I did my best," Lottie said, defeated. "I should've paid more attention when you tried to teach me how to read."

Luke chuckled, a real smile forming on his face for the first time. "It's alright, I wasn't much of a teacher."

"Oh please, you were a perfectly  _good_ teacher. I just never actually bothered to pay attention." Lottie rummaged through her duffel bag, pulling out a small comlink. "There's one more thing I can try, but I can't promise anything."

"What is it?"

"Remember the Everlark Hotel? Your first mission?" Lottie looked at Luke briefly before continuing to type in numbers.

"Yeah."

"The owner's a friend of ours, that's how we get the info. But she's-prickly. She doesn't like helping us when she doesn't have to."

"Well, this is pretty important-"

"And currently, my face is plastered everywhere in a wanted poster." Lottie raised an eyebrow, setting the comm in-between them. "It's on speaker. Maybe I can play the sympathy card."

"What should I do?" Luke whispered.

"I'll nod if you need to say something."

The comm lightly vibrated as the person on the other end began to speak. "Hello? Charlotte?"

"Hi, Hi Ella," Lottie said, twirling a lock of hair.

"You shouldn't be calling me." Ella's voice was hard to place-a mix of a posh Coruscanti accent and something from the Outer Rim, the melodic tones mixing with the harsh, guttural sound. "I could be killed."

"Ella, I know, you know I wouldn't be calling you if it wasn't desperate." Lottie rubbed at her temple. "Listen, I need info-"

"Give me a reason, then."

Lottie sighed in frustration, and then spoke again, bluntly. "It's Pazima. She's dead. And we... _think_ there's someone associated with her past who I should kill. It's hard to explain, but-"

"Hold on. We? Are you two still palling around with-"

"It's not two, Ella. It's one. And I'm here with Luke Skywalker." She nodded at Luke, rubbing at her temples and rolling her eyes at the comm.

"Um, hi," Luke said timidly. "I'm Luke-"

"I know damn well who you are. Ugh, fine, I'll do it." Lottie broke into a large grin, grasping Luke's shoulder in excitement, causing the older man to bite his lip to stifle laughter. The voice on the comm, regardless, continued. "I'm sorry about your sister."

"Yeah, me too, Ella, thank you so much," Lottie said quickly. "The guy's name is Baron A'aric Kenson. I could use literally anything you can get me."

"Okay, give me a second." Lottie drummed her thighs in anticipation as Luke rubbed at the stubble on his face. After a few moments, the voice returned. "Okay, here's what I could gather; Kenson was stationed as a political player, specializing in Xuhiri, their culture, and getting the leaders over to the Empire. However, it says here that he was booted from that job after, and I'm quoting, 'Failure to capture eldest Nkosi child-'"

"Nkosi?" Lottie repeated, scrunching up her nose. "What the hell is that?"

"It's coming up blank," Ella replied. "I don't know, I'm sorry. After that, there's some routine missions in the Outer Rim, but-that's it, really. After that, the trail goes blank."

"We'll pick it up from there. Ella, thank you," Lottie said, switching off the comm before the woman could reply.

* * *

"Do you see him?"

At dusk, Lottie and Luke were sitting in Mos Eisley's dimly lit cantina, Luke nursing an ale, Lottie simply sipping water.

"Nothing." She pulled the black scarf at her head forward as a particularly shady-looking individual walked past, nudging Luke with her foot. "Not yet." Lottie absentmindedly picked at the collar of her jumpsuit. It felt strange now, uncomfortable. As if she had grown too big for it.

"Dammit," Luke muttered, eyeing the alien. "If we stay here much longer, we're gonna be made."

"She did say he was here, right?" Lottie turned to him, tapping her index finger on the dusty glass. "Mos Eisley?"

"It's a big place," Luke shrugged. "I just assumed some down-on-his-luck disgraced Imperial officer would be here, drinking his sorrows away-wait."

"What?" Lottie said, matching Luke's hushed tones.

"Go out the back, take a left, take a right, he'll be there." Luke shoved a comm in his ear, downing his glass of ale and leaving credits on the table. "I'll be there if you need me."

"I'll be fine," Lottie insisted. "How are you so sure?"

"The Force. And Lottie-"

Lottie looked down as Luke grasped her arm, turning slowly at the touch. "Yes?" she replied, cocking an eyebrow.

"This is the part where I tell you to take it easy, you're not fully healed, et cetera."

"And?" A smirk formed on her face. "You gonna?"

"Do what you need to do," he said simply. Lottie smiled, patting the hand on her shoulder and starting her journey into the dusk.

Luke's directions, vague enough, were correct, as Lottie slowed her approach to Corda. She quickly pulled out a knife, ready to plunge it in-between the man's shoulders, blood soaking his tunic.

Something else, however, was nagging at her head.  _Nkosi._ That was what her sister must have meant her to find, why her sister contacted Luke through the Force, used whatever power she had to tell Lottie to find this man and kill him. Lottie  _had_ to find out. She sheathed the blade in her belt, stepping slowly in tracks already made in the sand.

Finally, she was just close enough to the man. Wrapping a firm hand over his mouth, she crashed with the struggling man into a nearby hut, totally abandoned save for a small mouse droid. Shooting it with her blaster, she pointed it at Kenson.

"Nkosi," she started. "You tell me what that is and we do this the easy way."

"Who the hell are you?" he spat, brow furrowing.

"You don't recognize me?" Lottie said coyly, some part of her playfulness returning. "Maybe this'll help." She pulled the scarf down, running a hand through her hair.

"Holy shit," Kenson said, starting backwards. "You're the girl who escaped the  _Devastator_."

"And the Fox," Lottie finished, giving him a mock curtsy. "You're not getting out of here alive, do you realize that? And don't even think about diving for the door." She stopped his attempt with her foot, blaster still aimed at his head, as she backed him up into a small desk. "You  _do know_ what the Fox does, right?" She briefly began patting the man down until he desperately pulled at her hair, attempting an escape.

Lottie was quicker, unsheathing a knife and jamming it into the man's thigh, the man yelping in pain and collapsing as blood leaked from the wound, Lottie pulling the knife from his leg.

"Either this is quick, or I do that a few more times and leave you to bleed out as your last sight is the rest of your limbs cut off on the floor. Take your pick." She wiped the blood on her leg casually, putting a foot on the man's torso.

"Fine. What do you want to know?"

"I asked you a question. Do you know what the Fox does?"

"I've heard the legends," the man stammered. "Perfect deadshots, a flurry of swords, red hair, but-"

"But what?"

"I just....pictured you a bit older."

"Oh, no, see, you're thinking of my sister," Lottie adopted a fake conversational tone. "Yeah, she was the hot one. Pazima-that was her name-had a different boyfriend or girlfriend every week. She had a great voice too. People used to always say they expected me to speak in this beautiful accent, because that's what she had. She was the Fox too, but she had this different way of doing it, y'know, full armor, sniper blaster rifles, stuff like that. I never did look good in full armor," Lottie mused, looking at the jumpsuit on her body. "Always thought I looked better in a leotard. In any case, she was beautiful in probably every way, and people always expect  _me_ to be the same. Well, expected, really, as she's dead now. But, y'know, I was so jealous of her when she was alive. I still am, really. Y'know why I always was jealous?"

"She was pretty?" Kenson guessed, frantically looking for some sort of weapon.

"Well, yes, but she was a Xuhiri. She won the DNA lottery. And I didn't. Well, I guess you could say I _did,_ and then my parents fucked it up-It's this whole thing. Too hard to explain. Anyways, I just heard about this thing,  _Nkosi_ , and I feel like it has something to do with you, and her, and why I'm going to have to kill yo-"

"Pazima Nkosi," Kenson stammered, looking at Lottie with disdain. "That's your sister."

"Huh?" Lottie replied, gun wavering just a little bit.

"Pazima Nkosi. She was a chieftain's daughter. A princess, if you will. The Nkosis, they helped out the Rebellion. She was off fucking some slut on the lower levels of Coruscant when I was meant to take her along with the rest of her scum family. She escaped, and that's why I'm stuck in this shithole."

"You killed her family?"

"I sent them off to work camps," Kenson replied. "I don't know what happened after that, and I don't know what happened to Pazima."

"Congratulations," Lottie said, twirling her blaster. "You've earned a quick death."

"Figures I should be killed by the ugly sister of my worse nightmare," Kenson spat, getting some satisfaction at insulting Lottie, the girl running her tongue over her teeth, before kneeling next to the man, gun resting in between her legs as her elbow sat on her thighs.

"And my sister escaped from one of the most pathetic excuses for a man I've ever seen, and I'm related to Todd Greenberg. Don't go calling me anything." She cocked the blaster back, putting the barrel at his head, the man closing his eyes in defeat.

"Y'know, normally, I do this with a knife." Taking a brief glance at the heavens, Lottie returned her focus to her victim. "This one's for you, Pazima Nkosi."

The blood from A'aric Kenson's head splattered against Lottie's face, Lottie closing her eyes as it washed over her.

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

The silence, as usual, spoke volumes.

Lottie changed out of her Fox uniform and into utilitarian pajamas, Luke’s eyes decidedly forward. She couldn’t deny the smile on her face as she recalled the light going from the man’s eyes, as if a weight had been lifted on her shoulders, as if she had just gazed upon Pazima’s proud smile one last time. She became a Fox to avenge her family. And as families change and die, vengeance does too-that’s what people got wrong on their little revenge quests. Sometimes vengeance is straightforward and direct, like a point-blank shot to a man’s temple, and sometimes it’s nebulous and all-consuming, like an entire government condemning her fathers to death.

“I hope Pazima’s happy,” Lottie said finally.

“I’m sure she is,” Luke replied, only half-focused on Lottie’s words.

“Well, can’t you tell? Through the Force, or whatever?”

“That’s not really how the Force works.”

“Oh.” Lottie spoke with the voice of a child who had just been scolded by the teacher, quiet for a few moments. “Well, I feel happy, in any case.”

“You just killed someone,” Luke raised an eyebrow. “I should hope you feel anything other than that feeling.”

“Well, I guess, but,” Lottie sighed, trying to find the right words. “I avenged Pazima’s family, right? My family too, by adoption. Before this, I felt empty. Prison made me empty. But now I’m  _ something  _ again. I’ve got a purpose, and if that purpose is fucked up, it’s fucked up.”

“Mmm,” Luke replied, Lottie huffing at his lack of response.

“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?” Lottie asked, crossing her arms. “You know I don’t  _ enjoy  _ it, Luke, you know me better-”

“I know.” Luke cut her off quickly, to avoid the impending babble.

“Well, what then?” Lottie pressed, frustrated.

“There’s a sandstorm coming,” Luke said matter-of-factly. “We won’t be able to ride through the night.”

“Hmph,” she muttered. “Can we stop anywhere? Do you guys have hotels?”

Luke gave a short laugh, glancing at the dusk around him. “The only place we could’ve stayed is where you just killed a man, but luckily, there is someplace around here.”

“Where?”

Luke took his time answering Lottie’s question. “My old house,” he said finally.

“No way,” Lottie breathed, glancing at Luke. “I thought it was gone.”

“No, they didn’t burn all of it,” he replied quietly, looking anywhere but her.

“They burnt all of my house,” Lottie said thoughtfully. “It was made of wood, so it went up with my father.” Lottie knew any mention of her parents would force Luke to look at her, she spoke about them too rarely. “So I’m glad you have yours. I’d like to have mine.”

“Yeah, well,” Luke said. “I’m not so sure you’d like to see it after the Empire.”

Lottie went quiet. She didn’t need the Force to know that Luke wanted to be left alone.

* * *

 

They didn’t speak again until some time later, when Lottie was sat on an old couch eating old rations from her duffel bag. Luke behaved much like she had when they went to her parents’ house; closed-off, withdrawn, thoughtful. She left him alone, glancing at various items in her duffel bag.

The house was like hers, in a way. An old quilt covered a creaky bed, sand and dust covered a hefty part of the room, toys and datapads and holos left abandoned. Lottie assumed this was Luke’s room-the model starfighters practically gave it away. She only brushed her fingers only over a few, dust covered objects, however; the room seemed to have the air of a museum, and Lottie felt she had to preserve it for Luke, dust and all.

Luke finally joined her, hair slightly damp from the ‘fresher.

“Look what I found,” she said, smile on her face, holding up Luke’s black sketchpad as a makeshift olive branch. “It was in my duffel bag.”

“No way,” Luke said, momentarily forgetting to brood. “I thought that got destroyed on Hoth.”

“No,” Lottie said, her index finger flipping through the different drawings on the screen. “No, this is what I went back for.”

The heaviness of her words left a silence between them, but not uncomfortable, perhaps necessary.

“There’s a lot here, y’know.” Luke said finally, gesturing to a weathered cabinet. “This was my room.”

“Really?” Lottie’s eyebrows rose, only feigning surprise, but leaving Luke’s side to look through the cabinet anyways. “Do you mind?”

“No,” Luke said, too engrossed with the sketchpad to care about much else. Lottie only had an artificial interest in his old sketchbooks, she was too busy trying to read Luke to peruse his old drawings and schoolwork, if she could even read any of it.

His eyes caught a flash of pink and smiled as he lifted up one of the pristine ballet shoes he gave her, giving a short laugh. “I thought these were gone too,” he added wistfully, glancing at Lottie.

“No,” Lottie said, getting up to join him. “No, those I kept.”

“Hmm,” Luke tactfully avoided the bantha in the room, still unsure if Lottie was hostile towards romance. “I should start drawing again,” he suggested as an appropriate change of subject.

“You could give me a tattoo,” Lottie suggested, Luke nearly dropping the sketchpad in shock.

“ _ What  _ did you just say?” he asked, appalled.

“I know how to make the tattoo gun. And I’ve been thinking of getting one to cover up my prison number anyway. So this is cheaper. It works out for everyone.”

Lottie offered Luke her right forearm, and he took it gingerly, turning it over. “I’m pretty sure you’re insane,” he replied, giving a short laugh. “I’ve never given anyone a tattoo.”

“First time for everything. It’s easy. I just want it to look like Pazima’s roses.”

Luke raised a tentative eyebrow, tracing the bumps of the prison number on Lottie’s arm. His fingertips were rough, calloused-too familiar to be the touch of a friend, too hesitant to be the touch of a lover. “Do you have a holo of them?” he asked finally, not letting go of her arm.

* * *

 

Some time later, Luke took a swig of one of Lottie’s patented alcoholic drinks, the makeshift needle continuing to whir.

“This is probably so unsanitary,” he commented with a laugh.

“I’m a medic, nothing I do is unsanitary.”

“You just made ink from ashes and vodka.”

“I make do.”

Luke’s laugh shook the needle on Lottie’s arm, eliciting a hiss from the girl.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. Lottie waved off his apology with her other hand, drinking tea from an old mug. “At least you’ll be able to tell this tattoo was homemade.”

“Made with love,” Lottie finished, punctuating it with an awkward laugh. Her toe touched the ballet shoes, finally gathering the courage to ask him the question that had plagued her since the speeder.

“Where are we?”

Luke stopped working on her arm, picking up the weight in her question. “What do you mean?”

“Us. As a...well.” Lottie realized she had almost said “couple.” “As us.”

“Last time I checked, you didn’t  _ want  _ an us.” Luke resumed work on the tattoo, avoiding Lottie’s gaze.

“I was also fresh out of prison,” Lottie reminded him. “I didn’t want much of anything.”

“What about now?”

“I don’t know what I want,” Lottie said quietly.

Luke adjusted, and drew breath that Lottie knew was signaling a story, something important. “Y’know, when you were in prison, I told you about those dreams. But, I didn’t tell you Pazima was there. With me. She was like my conscience, or something.”

“What’s a conscience?” Lottie’s nose scrunched as her head tilted awaiting an answer.

“Um, it’s like the little voice in your head that tells you right from wrong.”

“Oh. I don’t think I have one of those.”

“No, me neither.” The pair both laughed at the exchange of dialogue, but it went quiet so Luke could continue. “In any case, she was there. And-y’know, I think she gave me these visions. Maybe not her, maybe it was my father, I don’t know. But I guess the Force thinks we’ll be together in the future. But, I already told you about that. What they were about I mean.”

“Mmm.” Lottie replied, nodding. “We were ‘together,’ you said. Or...are. Or will be. Which one’s future tense?”

“Will be,” Luke answered, turning a bright red as he continued his recollection. “It wasn’t just-Um. Well. Y’know. I….well, we weren’t just  _ together,  _ like friends.”

“I know, we were a couple,” she said, as if it were obvious. “I’m not that dumb.”

“No, I wasn’t saying you were, I just. Well. In the dream, we were, um, married-”

“Makes sense.” Lottie said, holding back a laugh.

“And...well, we were, um, in bed together-”

“Do I turn you on?” Lottie couldn’t hold back her laughter, pulling away from Luke as he buried his head in his knees, dropping the needle. “Is that what this is leading to?” Her voice got steadily higher and her accent thicker, barely forming words in laughter. Luke answered only in a grunt, unable to look at Lottie howling in laughter at his embarrassment.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Lottie said honestly, “you turn me on too.”

“Oh my gods,” Luke said, muffled into his knees.

“Like, if you wanna fuck after you give me this tattoo, I’m totally down-”

“I hate you,” Luke said finally. “We’re trying to have a serious conversation about our relationship, and you-”

“I am being serious,” Lottie said, still laughing. “I don’t offer to fuck someone lightly.”

“Stop saying ‘fuck’,” Luke scolded, his tone finally becoming light as he overcame his embarrassment, getting up to pace. “It was so much more than that. We made  _ love. _ ”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lottie said, clutching her hands to her chest and getting up to meet Luke. “That I so dare assume our future relationship is anything more than one for the romance books-”

“That’s right,” Luke interjected.

“People will be desperate for a love like ours for generations-”

“Exactly.”

“With a  _ love-making  _ life unmatched by any couple in history-”

“Okay, that’s too far.”

“You brought it up!” Lottie yelled, poking Luke in the chest.

“I didn’t know  _ how  _ to bring it up!” His arms 

“That you want to make love to me?” Lottie wrapped her arms around Luke, half playful, half extremely serious.

“Yes, and-Well. Other things.”

“Like what?” Lottie asked, looking up at Luke.

“Like that your tattoo is three-quarters finished,” Luke said, unwrapping her arms from him pointing at the blank spot on her forearm.

“Right. I guess our  _ love-making  _ will have to wait.” Lottie plopped back on the couch with a huff, folding her arms and glancing at him with amusement.

“I’m starting to think the Force got it wrong.”

* * *

 

“It’s finished.” Luke wiped the last of the ink off, covering her arm in plastic. “How do you like it?”

“Wow,” Lottie murmured, turning her arm over as he finished. “I love it, Luke. I really do.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Think I could make a name for myself on Xuhiri?”

“Definitely,” she nodded, but then scratched at the back of her head as he got up, still not finished with their conversation. “Luke?”

“Mmm?”

“I...really like you. In every way. In a friend way, in a romantic way, in a _love-making_ way.” She said the last words with a chuckle, but then turned serious, pulling her knees up to her chest. “But...I’m not sure what I want right now. I want to be with you, in every way, but I think...I think I like you so much that when it happens it’s gonna be-It’s gonna be like when you’re racing someone, and they yell ‘Go!’, and you take off, and it’s just the most amazing rush of speed, like you could run forever. That’s the way I feel, and I’m scared about saying go, because I’m afraid we won’t ever stop running, and right now, I-”

“I understand,” Luke said, kneeling in front of her to take her hands. “I feel the same way.” Lottie raised an eyebrow as he continued to talk. “I’ve felt...things for you that I’ve honestly never felt for a human before. I know that sounds really gross, and cheesy, and like a holo-film, but it’s true. I’ve never really been...erm, well, I haven’t exactly had a lot of experience in the romance department-”

“Neither have I,” Lottie said honestly, turning her hands over in his.

“But, I think we just both need time to figure things out. Me with my dad, and you with Pazima, and prison, and everything else.”

“I think you’re right. And then after that, we run.” Lottie punctuated the last words with a lift of their conjoined hands.

“We run.” Luke repeated. “And don’t stop.”

“I’m afraid to even kiss you,” Lottie said, blushing and playing with his fingers. “I want to, but that feels too much like a beginning.”

“Well, how about see you in the morning?”

“See you in the morning, then, Luke Skywalker.”

He pressed a kiss to their hands, both of them refusing to leave each other’s eyes. “See you in the morning, Charlotte Reynard.”


	20. Chapter 20

The hard-won peace of that night turned into a hard-won public formality over the next few weeks. The monotonous Tatooinian days passed by as Lottie slipped into a routine, tracking time by the rapid improvement of her physical health. The headscarves and turtlenecks trapping her body in a black curtain of grief and shame slowly disappeared as the thickness began to return to her red locks and the stares given to her collarbone significantly decreased. Days went by in a blur of training and household work as Lottie quickly busied herself with cleaning and cooking, stuck in a limbo between still-too-frail to go undercover (barring the small fact that Leia was currently unaware she was an assassin) and too healthy to just lie in bed. It was boring, sure, and Lottie wanted to almost constantly kick something due to the monotony, but it was better than prison.

Her nights, still plagued with nightmares scored by Vader’s disembodied voice, became punctuated with knocks on her door as Luke was haunted by seemingly parallel monsters. Their excuses to Leia grew flimsy as she often woke up alone in her and Lottie’s room, Lottie secured elsewhere in Luke’s arms. Eventually, Lottie just left the room all together, not bothering to explain the current state of her and Luke’s relationship to anyone, or to even set up the pretense of an extra bed.

In a while, their small band of soldiers focused less and less on Lottie’s current state of being as solid progress was being made on the efforts to rescue Han Solo, brought about by Lando Calrissian.

Lottie had barely noticed Lando’s stares when he first entered their camp, her needle weaving in and out of fabric as she mended Wedge’s shirt.

“Can I help you?” she asked, not looking up from her stitching.

“You-you’re the girl from the poster,” a deep baritone voice registered.

“What poster?” Lottie said, finally looking up at his handsome face, her pale skin turning a deep crimson as she realized, for perhaps the first time in her life, a man was staring at her frankly boyish chest. She dropped her work in exasperation, rolling her eyes. “I can tell you’re lookin’ at my tits.”

“What? No-no, I’m sorry, it’s rude to stare, but your scar, ma’am-”

“Yes, ugly, isn’t it? Now, Wedge needs this shirt for tomorrow, so if you don’t mind-”

“Lando Calrissian, at your service.” He dropped to his knees with a dramatic swish of his cape, taking Lottie’s hand and kissing it. “I truly apologize for staring.”

“It’s okay.” Lottie replied, giving a small smile. “I’m used to it, but not with  _ this  _ particular scar. Are you the one that’s at Jabba’s palace?”

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me,” Lando got up with a smile on his face, his eyes not leaving Lottie. “May I ask your name?”

“You’ve seen it on a poster, ‘aven’t you?”

“I believe reading a woman’s name truly does not match hearing it from her own lips.”

With a slight laugh and a cross of her legs, Lottie spoke again. “Charlotte Reynard, but everyone calls me Lottie.”

“Ah! Luke!” Lando’s gaze was diverted, with a sweeping stroll to Luke, who had only just walked into the room. “I have just had the pleasure of meeting this  _ remarkable  _ young woman, Charlotte Reynard, and I was just about to tell her how positively beautiful she looked among the sands.”

“Were you?” Luke only raised an eyebrow in response, casting an amused glance at Lottie.

“You flatter me too much, Mister Calrissian,” Lottie replied, Luke looking at her in amazement as her voice quickly dropped the commoner’s glottal stop on “flatter” as she got up to join the two men.  

“Well, it’s true, and I have no interest in telling lies. Tell me, Charlotte, are you free this evening? It would only please me to learn more about your exploits in this galaxy. I can only assume a woman such as yourself-”

“She doesn’t drink,” Luke said quickly. “At least, not since prison.”

“I understand. Perhaps a wine for myself, then, and a lemonade for the young-”

“Perhaps some other time, Mister Calrissian, as I’m quite busy and I’m afraid Mister Antilles’ shirt still need mending. It was lovely to make your acquaintance.”

Lando kissed her hand as he made his exit, giving a curt bow to Luke.

“Since when do you not sound like every holofilm’s stereotypical dirty thief?” Luke asked, eyes boring where Lando had exited.

“My sister always said if they won’t understand your language, speak theirs,” Lottie said. “I think sounding like royalty-” Lottie rolled the r’s dramatically, “-is the best way to speak with Lando.” She patted Luke on the shoulder, turning to get her shirt.

“The meeting is happening.”  
“Oh, fine,” Lottie said, throwing the clothing over her shoulder. “Are you coming too, or are you too busy being mad over my posh accent?”

“You were  _ too  _ good at it,” Luke muttered, Lottie only putting her hand at his waist in response.

* * *

 

“Lando’s data is remarkable,” Leia said, pouring over the datapad the man had given her. Holos and maps surrounded the group as Lottie continued mending, truly only half-paying attention to the princess’ words. “With this information, we can begin the infiltration tonight.”

“Tonight?!” C-3P0, Leia’s protocol droid, threw a golden hand in protest. “Mistress Leia, I trust your judgement, but-”

“Tonight,” Leia insisted. “The longer we wait, the longer Han is stuck in carbonite.”

“No time like the present,” Wedge muttered. “Now, I doubt Jabaa’ll accept Threepio and Artoo as a gift-no offense,” he added at Artoo’s defiant beep.

“Artoo’s ready,” Luke said proudly. “So is the message. I second Leia. We do this tonight, or we’ll just keep making excuses as to why we wait.”

“It’s settled then,” Leia said, nodding at Luke.

“Well, we know the backup plans, right? There’s no way this can fail if those all work,” Wedge said, referring to his own work. “Once you get a transport out of there with Han, Lottie, Jax, and I will be waiting in a canyon nearby. I switch out the ship with a different one-”

“You’re too paranoid,” Lottie muttered. “If this goes according to plan, they’ll all be dead anyway.”

“What about if it works on plan A, huh Lottie?” Wedge asked defensively. “Or plan B?”

Lottie snorted. “Likely.”

“Well, barring Little Miss Vote Of Confidence over here, she’ll get to work on Han, with Jax’s help of course-” Wedge gestured to the other man, “-and we’ll be off. This’ll work. I know it will.”

“I’ll be monitoring everything.” Jax said, rising from his seat. “If something happens and we need to abort, I’ll call it.”

“Lottie, what about you?” Leia turned to her former roommate. “Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready for weeks,” Lottie muttered, only glancing at the princess. “Anything to get me out of this gods-forsaken house.”

“I mean physically,” Leia said. “I don’t want to exert you-”

“I’ll be fine, Leia,” Lottie said.

“Princess Organa did tell me about a doctor that visited recently, a Todd Greenberg? Perhaps-”

“No,” Lottie and Wedge chorused, Lottie rising from her chair in a slight panic. 

“Surely if Han needs medical treatment-”

“Todd Greenberg only treated me because I was literally on the verge of death,” Lottie retaliated, taking steps towards Lando. “If Han was, you would have known  _ after  _ you put him in carbonite, Mister Calrissian.” Lottie’s words were laced with venom, her panicked attack only stopped by Luke’s hand on her abdomen.

“I second Lottie,” Wedge said, his vitriol better contained, but still just lingering. “Todd Greenberg is a dangerous man, only bound to Lottie through a small family tie but certainly not bound by any sort of morality or love for the cause. Lottie is a fantastic medic, I would trust her with my life.”

“So would I,” Jax piped up, crossing his arms. “In fact, she’s saved it on more than one occasion.”

“Alright, I’m sorry to bring up the topic,” Lando said, throwing his hands up in defeat.

“Leia, if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to do some exercises before bed,” Lottie said quickly, barely waiting for Leia’s nod before she bolted

* * *

 

An hour later, Lottie had wrapped herself in her blanket, curled on her bed and facing the wall. She didn’t stir as the door softly clicked behind her, the footsteps signaling Luke’s presence.

Lottie could almost see his puzzled expression, and the way he breathed in before speaking, as one does before crossing a treacherous bridge.

“Mission’s still on for tomorrow,” he began carefully, Lottie listening to him begin to get ready for bed, throwing his datapad on the counter. “Threepio and Artoo are already on their way with Lando.”

“Good,” Lottie murmured, not moving from the bed.

“You wanna talk about what happened in there?” Luke asked, his voice striking a treacherous balance between patient and slightly annoyed. “Every time we bring up Todd, you-”

“Did he touch me?” Lottie asked quietly, refusing to look at Luke as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

“What?!” Luke replied, abruptly stopping his evening ritual. “What do you mean?”

“If he did, Luke, I don’t want you to feel guilty because you couldn’t have known but-I need to know, did he touch me?” Lottie’s voice was hoarse and pained, somewhere between feeling everything and feeling nothing.

Lottie felt the bed sink with Luke’s weight as he sat at its edge, taking off his shoes before he spoke. “Besides medical procedures, no, he didn’t touch you. I would’ve known. I stayed with you as much as I could, and when I wasn’t there, Wedge or Jax was. Even if none of us were in the room, Jax had cameras monitoring you constantly. He couldn’t have done anything.”

“Good.” Lottie reached blindly to squeeze Luke’s hand. “Thank you.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Luke asked again, softly this time.

“I think you know,” Lottie whispered, bringing her hand back to the blanket and covering her chest. “You’re smart. You can assume what he did to me.”

Luke nodded, waiting a beat before speaking again. “I think I should-”

“Do you hate me?” Lottie interjected.

“What? No, why would I hate you?” He turned to face Lottie, tears betraying the cold expression on her face.

“For not telling you,” she replied, finally turning to look at him.

“Lottie, whatever it is that he did to you, it wouldn’t make me hate you. Nothing could. It’s not your fault.”

“I should’ve told you.” She turned from him again, running a hand through her hair.

“No,” Luke declared, shaking his head, placing a hand on her thigh. “No, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. Now and forever, do you understand me?”

Lottie nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. “I should have told you to kill him.”

“I think you’d regret not taking that honor yourself,” Luke said quietly, rubbing calming circles on her leg.

Lottie laughed shortly, wiping the tears from her eyes for a final time. “I did cut his dick off,” she admitted, turning to rest on her back, hand behind her head.

“You did  _ not, _ ” Luke said, withdrawing his hand as Lottie nodded in response, a tattooed hand covering her mouth.

“I did,” she sputtered between laughs. “And his hand.”

“Holy shit,” Luke marveled, with a disbelieving chuckle. “I don’t know if I’m more attracted to you or less.”

Used to openly discussing their non-relationship by now, Lottie only reached for his hand to twirl her fingers in. “I hope more,” she admitted. “But does it really surprise you?”

“No, if anyone has the guts to cut that bastard to tiny pieces, it’s you, Charlotte Reynard.”

Lottie only chuckled in reply. “You would too?”

“Oh, if I ever see him so much as  _ look  _ at you in a way you or I don’t like, I’ll cut a leg off.”

Lottie laughed again, Luke getting off of the bed to resume undressing for bed. “I like protective you,” she admitted, turning to watch him.

Luke only replied with an interrogative grunt, smiling at her. “I don’t think protective me is very Jedi-like, do you?”

“ _ Fuck  _ Jedi-like, Luke, you’re the only one left. You can do what you want.”

“Well, there’s my teacher,” Luke corrected. “And Rosalie.”

“Rosalie said the old Jedi ways led to their destruction.”

“I guess she would know,” Luke said, leaning against a wall in thought.

“She would,” Lottie agreed, patting the pillow next to her. “Come to bed,” she whined.

Luke obliged, making Lottie laugh as he pulled her in a vicegrip, putting his head on her shoulder. She briefly thanked whatever gods were out there that it was too hot to sleep in much anything but a nightgown on her part, boxers on his. She wasn’t ready for their pre-destined married life, but if married life meant never losing the tiny shockwaves every place his skin touched hers, well, she could see why the Force wanted them together.

“Y’know, I always hated sleeping by myself. After,” Lottie said abruptly, catching Luke off-guard as he flipped onto his back. “I used to make Jax sleep in the same bed as me. He hated it.”

Luke replied with a chuckle, briefly waving his hand to turn the light off with the Force. “I can only imagine he did.” He lifted his arm so Lottie could lean against his chest, wrapping it around her shoulders, rubbing her arm lightly. “I don’t mind this so much.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Lottie said finally, shutting her eyes and falling into a dreamless, peaceful sleep, her last thought of Luke's right hand rubbing her shoulder.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer added to the beginning of each fic for safety and clarification purposes.

“So,” Jax began, the words garbled between bites of a ration bar, “You guys fuckin’ yet?”

Wedge nearly choked out his own ration bar in response, his bellowing laugh resonating against the cavern walls. Lottie, however, only rolled her eyes, refusing to look at either men as she ashed her cigarra.

“No,” she insisted defiantly. “We are  _ not  _ fucking, thank you for asking.”

“Well, no offense, Lottie, but you do literally nothing to dispel that rumor,” Wedge said. “And you shouldn’t smoke.”

“ _ You  _ shouldn’t ask questions that aren’t your business,” Lottie countered, blowing smoke in his face.

“Okay, but seriously, you gotta tell us what’s going on.” Jax poked Lottie in the shoulder, Lottie shrugging off his question with 

“We’ve been wondering for  _ weeks, _ ” Wedge added.

“Like, you come back from gods-know-where with a new tattoo and you and Skywalker are all touchy-touchy after and literally share a bed, like, call me crazy, but that’s the hallmark signs of two people who are fucking.”

Lottie shook her head. “You guys used to make fun of me and Pazima, and now look at ya, a pair of gossiping maids, you are.”

“We’re not gossiping!” Jax insisted. “We have a professional interest. If two of the Fox Squadron are fucking, we’d like to know.”

“Oh, a professional interest, is that what we’re calling it now?”

“You knew about me and Pazima,” Wedge suggested.

“It was hard not to,” Lottie muttered darkly.

“So, there’s no reason why we shouldn’t know.”

“Listen, if it happens, you’ll be the first to know,” Lottie placated the two men, cigarra between her teeth.

“I’m pretty sure Luke would be-”

“Jax Collins, I will bleed you from your eyes and use the blood as a condiment.”

“As far as threats go, I’d give that one a five,” Jax mused, scrolling through the camera feeds on his datapad.

“Out of what?”

“Ten, dumbass, can you understand basic fucking rating systems?”

“No.”

“Can we focus on the mission, please?” Wedge asked exasperatedly.

“Oh,  _ who  _ was the one who brought up my sex life?” Lottie responded incredulously, coughing on her smoke.

“Jax, technically, I just sided with him.”

“You brought it up this time, Lottie, would you like to elabor-” Wedge nearly howled in laughter as Lottie whipped her head around to Jax, already laughing at her enraged expression.

“Jax, I swear, the next time you open your mouth I’ll rip your teeth out and use them as a topping on my sandwich already covered in your blood. Rate that, bitch.”

“Seven.”

“I’ll take it.”

“I enjoyed the threat continuity.”

“I aim to please.”

“It wouldn’t work though,” Jax mused. “Y’know, you’re supposed to drink the blood of  _ virgins  _ to gain beauty. I, clearly, am not,” he finished proudly.

Lottie only responded with a puff of her cigarra and her eyes boring into Jax. “Look at my face. Does this face look like the face of someone who drinks the blood of virgins on a regular basis?”

“How did we even end up on this topic?” Wedge hissed, snatching the datapad from Jax’s hands. “Give me the godsdamn datapad, I gotta do all the fucking work around here.”

“You won’t have to,” Lottie said, pointing to a speeder directly in front of them. “They’re here.”

“Gods, is that Han?” Jax said, his voice suddenly serious as he handed Lottie her duffel bag. “He looks terrible.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Lottie replied, beginning her jog to the speeder. “Imagine being trapped in metal for months.”

“I have a feeling if I keep bringing up your relationship, or lack of it, that may be in my immediate future.”

“I’d consider it,” Lottie said, taking Luke’s hand to climb the speeder. “How is he?”

“Bad,” Luke muttered, motioning with his head to Han, who was leaning against the side of the speeder.

“‘M fine,” he murmured, his words slightly garbled, as he swayed on the rail of the speeder. “M’ eyesight’s returning.” Han, to anyone’s eyes, was very far from fine. His skin was a grotesque shade of ghostly white and sickening green, his eyes rolling back and forth. He was only being held up by Chewbacca’s strong arms.

“Did he fight?”

The group muttered a reluctant affirmative, Lottie rolling her eyes, muttering some sentence in her native language.

“Great. He’s nauseated,” Lottie said quickly, opening her duffel bag and pulling out a flashlight, shining it in Han’s eyes before putting it away. “He’s still medically blind. Lando, get us home as fast as you can, but carefully too. No sharp turns. No sudden braking.”

“Anything, Miss Reynard.”

“I want to help,” Leia insisted, Luke’s cape shrugged over her shoulders as she knelt with them over Han’s body. Chewie gargled in agreement, Lottie quick to understand the meaning but not the language.

“Here, take this cloth, wipe his forehead,” Lottie said quickly, handing said item to Leia. “His body is adjusting to the outside temperature and is giving him a fever. Chewie, you can help lay him down. Everyone else make room.”

“What about my eyes?”

“There’s nothing I can do,” Lottie said. “Just be patient, they’ll return. Luke, take Lando’s jacket and put it under his head, I don’t want him choking on his own vomit.”

“Choking on my-what?”

“Your body ain’t used to moving and that means you’re probably gonna vomit,” Lottie explained quickly, putting on gloves. “I’m going to check for any internal bleeding or numbness.”

“I can’t feel your hands,” Han said absently, as Lottie pressed on his abdomen under his shirt.

“Shit. Can you feel your hands and legs?”

“Yes.”

“Could you feel Chewie when he held you up?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, that’s good then. When we get back, Leia, take a cloth and run hot water under it. Have him lay down and press it on his stomach, that should work. Luke, hand me that tiny bag on top there.”

Lottie absently pointed to her duffel bag, but Luke understood, searching for her medical kit among the clothing.

“Before I do this, answer these questions,” Lottie said. “What’s your name?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Just answer it,” Lottie sighed.

“Han Solo.”

“What’s your copilot’s name?”

“Chewbacca.

“Alright, good, you don’t have a concussion.” Lottie said, catching the bag Luke threw at her and rummaging through it, pulling out a small glass bottle filled with a clear liquid. “Okay, I brewed this up last night-”

“Brewed?”

“Trust me, Solo, you’re gonna  _ wish  _ this was vodka. It’s gonna taste like piss going down, but it’ll get you going right quick. Just don’t throw it up, I’ll be pissed.”

“‘Get you going right quick?’” Jax muttered, glancing at Lottie.

“How the hell else do you say that? Leia, lift his head.” Leia obeyed, and Lottie poured the liquid down his throat, ignoring a few violent coughs from Han. She closed his jaw shut and raised her eyebrows as if willing him to swallow, Han finally gulping defiantly.

“Good. How do you feel?”

“Better.”

“Thought so. I’ll check up on your vision when we’re home.”

Lottie turned her back on him, discreetly giving Leia and Han privacy as she cleaned up her workstation.

“What happens now?” Luke asked, giving the couple a passing glance as he knelt down next to her. “I mean, where are we all going?”

“I’m staying on for a week at least to take care of Han,” Lottie said, Wedge and Jax joining them. “From there, I’m leaving.”

“You’re coming back with us, right? Both of you?”

“I’m not so sure,” Luke said. “I stayed on to get Han back, and then to take care of Lottie. Both of those things happened, so I need to go back to Jedi training. I’m not a Jedi yet.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Lottie said, casting Luke a smile.

“What about you, Lottie? Are you coming back to base?”

“I’m not sure,” Lottie mused. “I think I need to take some time off.”

“You had a couple of months,” Jax scoffed.

“A couple of months with the likes of  _ you,  _ Jax Collins. I meant by myself.”

“And how long is that gonna be?”

Lottie shrugged. “I don’t know. However long I need.”

“What about you, Luke?”

“Same answer.”

“Gods in heaven, this weird roommate mind meld you two have is starting to creep me out,” Jax joked. “But in all seriousness, we’ll be happy to take you where you want to go.”

“That’s alright. I’ll have Luke take me on the  _ Disciple. _ ” Lottie gave him a pointed look, and he knew exactly where she meant to go-her family estate where she had taken retreat after Vincent Dorchester’s death.

“Yeah. That’s fine,” Luke said. “I’ll stay on a little longer then. Enough to set her up and come back to give the ship back.”

“You can take it to wherever you’re going,” Wedge offered.

“Thanks, but then I’d just have an X-Wing stuck here.”

“True,” Wedge said, failing to hide the disappointment in his voice. “Well, that’s settled then.”

* * *

 

“Are you sure you have everything?” Leia asked. “Food, medicine-”   


“I’m fine, Leia. Really,” Lottie said, reaching out to touch the other woman on the bicep. They stood outside their base on Tatooine, a small farewell party gathered in a semi-circle, sand absentmindedly tickling Lottie’s sandaled toes. “You’ve been too kind.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Leia said. “After everything you’ve done for us?” She glanced at Han, standing a full head and shoulders over her but his hand still gripping her shoulder for support.

“Speaking of, make sure to take your medicine every day for at least a week. Leia has my personal comm, if anything happens, call me. If it’s dire, go to Shaylen or Tel-Alum. They’re good medics, they’ll take care of you.”

“Thank you,” Han said, giving her a curt nod. Lottie replied with a nod and awkward smile of her own, before being enveloped in a hug by Leia.

“Good luck,” Leia said. “And I’m sorry. About everything.”

“Thanks. And it’s okay. I’m sorry too.”

Leia let her go, nodding to Luke, standing behind Lottie. “Be careful, Luke.”

“I’ll be gone for three days max, Leia,” Luke said, rolling his eyes.

“Still. Be careful.”

“I will,” Luke reassured her.

Leia turned with Han to leave, Jax and Wedge taking their place.

“Make sure to tell me if you get that dick while you’re away,” Jax started, eliciting a groan from both Luke and Lottie.

“Do you have  _ any  _ restraint?” Lottie said, crossing her arms. 

“No. I’m gonna miss teasing your straight ass.”

“I love you too, Jax,” Lottie said, giving Jax a hug. “But I won’t be gone for too long. And you can comm me anytime. Promise.”

“I know.” Jax shook the smaller woman, waddling with her in his arms as she rested her chin on his shoulder.

“I just need a few weeks. Months. Not years, hopefully.”

“With your time-telling skills, who knows?” Wedge said, Lottie letting Jax go as he sauntered over to her. “Come here, little girl.”

Lottie embraced him, Wedge picking her up with a groan. “I’m gonna miss you, kid.”

“I’m gonna miss you, too.”

“Take care of yourself for me, okay?”  
“I always do.”

“No more prison.”

“No more prison,” Lottie agreed with a laugh.

“And you make sure she gets there alright,” Wedge said, pointing at Luke. “Take care of her for me.”

“I will,” Luke said, giving Wedge a hug.

“Alright. Have fun,” Wedge said, clapping Lottie’s shoulder. “Be safe. Comm me if you need help.”

“You do the same,” Lottie said. “You know you can barely survive without me.”

“You know me too well, Reynard.”

“Goodbye, Wedge.”

Wedge only nodded, taking her hand once and squeezing it, and then turning away, Jax following suit.

“You ready to go?” Luke asked, resting his hand on her shoulder.

Suddenly, Lottie felt a heaviness in her heart at Wedge and Jax’s disappearing figures, and an odd nostalgia for the sand and wind around her. She had a stirring realization that this would have been the first time she would be truly alone in her life-Luke would leave her, and that would be it. In a moment, she felt grown up, no longer a child, but a tortured woman, her independence both exciting and terrifying. She reached behind her, entwining Luke’s hand in her own, his bare arm contrasting her tattooed roses.

“ _ Arien surdoigh, _ ” Lottie said quietly, turning to the ship and leaving Tatooine to come home.


	22. Chapter 22

Many things could be said about the late Dorchester patriarchs, but calling their beachfront cabin unwelcoming was not one of them. The small, unpretentious home gave the impression someone was constantly living in it, even if its current owner had not stepped foot in it for three years. Its paint was just between fresh and peeling, the small, three room size not giving off the impression of wealth. The dock, with the small family boat meant to be sailed to the mainland, lay unattended, just waiting for someone to use it. Luke absentmindedly kicked a chair on the porch, the cheap furniture wobbling as Lottie struggled to open the door.

“Are you sure the fingerprint scanner still works?” Luke asked, peeking over Lottie’s shoulder as the small panel on the door glowed red.

“Yes,” Lottie insisted. “I don’t have fingerprints anyways. The scientists didn’t give me any.”

“Of course you don’t,” Luke said, but then paused. “Wait, how is that possible?”

“Do you seriously think  _ I,  _ of all people, know the answer to your question?”

“You’re smarter than you like to pretend.”

“I’m exactly as smart as I say I am,” Lottie corrected, pushing the door open. “See? Still working.”

“Thank the Gods,” Luke said, almost sarcastically.

“It’s like we never left,” Lottie said, pulling up a gathered sleeve on her cotton shirt, giving Luke a bright smile. “Make yourself at home, I need to check what food we have.”

“You know I’m not staying, right?” Luke crossed his arms and peered into the kitchen, giving Lottie a skeptical look as she threw her hair over her shoulder.

“I know,” she said simply, “but you did agree to help me get settled. Your Jedi teacher-”

“Master-”  
“-Whatever. He’s not going to notice adding a couple of hours to six months. And neither will Han and Leia.” 

“Jax and Wedge  _ definitely  _ will, though.” Luke leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms as he gave Lottie a meaningful look.

“Fuck ‘em,” she replied defiantly, opening the conservator to check for food. Lottie peered into the unit, itching the back of her neck. “I can live off of this stuff before I have to go into town or start fishing and hunting.”

“We could get some stuff now,” Luke said, sitting on a rickety wood chair to unlace his boots. “If you wanted to.”

“Hmm,” Lottie laughed to herself, “the entire trip over here you were all ‘I need to leave or else I’ll be late,’ and now look at you. Making excuses to stay.”

“You said you wanted me to help!” Luke protested. “So, I’m helping.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“You literally said, ten seconds ago-”

“I’m just teasing you,” Lottie dismissed. “Besides, I don’t feel like hunting today. I’m not feeling too good.”

“Oh. I thought you were getting better?”

“I am,” Lottie said, giving a small laugh as she absently rested her hand on her stomach over her long skirt. “But sometimes I get these...well, you know how women get sick during their courses?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, this is kind of the same thing, without the actual courses.” Lottie gave a short, awkward laugh. “I think it’s just-I don’t know. Maybe it was the lightspeed.”

“Is it just-what Vader did?”

“Yeah,” Lottie said quickly. Even amongst the casual intimacy of Tatooine, Lottie’s infertility was a line never crossed, the subject too painful. Quickly, Lottie turned into the hallway, desperate for a change in topic. “I need to drop some stuff off in the bedroom.”

“I’ll help you unpack,” Luke said quickly. “You should take it easy.”

“Luke, I’m not  _ dying, _ ” Lottie laughed, picking up her duffel bag from the door and slinging it over her shoulder, making her way to the main. “Just hurting.”

Keen ears could notice her slight draw of breath at the sight of the room-the bed still unmade, the multicolored quilt still haphazardly tucked between the wood frame and the mattress, a cot wheeled in at the foot of the bed.

Lottie laughed at the sight, pointing it out to Luke as she dropped her duffel bag on the floor. “Look! I remember making you sleep there,” she said wistfully, turning to him. “Your snoring used to wake me up.”

“Gods, we barely knew each other then,” Luke replied. “It feels like it was so long ago.”

“It was three years ago,” Lottie pondered.

“That’s not a long time,” Luke said. “Not really.”

“Maybe not to you.” Lottie flopped herself onto the bed, covered her eyes with the crook of her elbow, the bed creaking just slightly under her weight. “Wake me up when you’re done unpacking,” she joked, putting on an upper-class Coruscanti accent.

“Oh, excuse me, madam,” Luke said, his voice equally teasing. “I didn’t know I came here as a servant.”

“Well, you are,” Lottie said, her hand outstretched to him and her fingers twirling in the familiar want of another's touch. “Sit down,” Lottie said. “We’ve got a good long while.”

“We’re supposed to be unpacking,” Luke pointed out, the bed creaking again as he sat despite himself. “ _ You’re  _ supposed to be unpacking.”

“I don’t want to unpack,” Lottie pouted. “I’m tired. Maybe in a few minutes.”

“Mmm,” Luke acknowledged, smiling at Lottie and rolling his eyes, finally laying down next to her and extending his left arm, allowing her to crawl under it. “I guess they won’t notice a  _ few  _ hours.”

“You read my mind,” Lottie said happily, resting her head on his chest.

“Y’know, despite everything, you’re a very easy read. At least to me.”

“Well, I don’t have to lie around you,” Lottie said simply, giving him a kiss on the cheek before closing her eyes, her breathing quickly becoming heavy and measured as Luke rubbed the back of her neck. Despite his intentions, his body had quickly found a rhythm with Lottie during Tatooine, and he found his eyes drooping, finally falling asleep next to her.

* * *

 

Luke woke with the sun already setting on the cabin, the unlit rooms slowly becoming darker.

“Lottie,” he muttered, rubbing her shoulder. “It’s been a few hours.”

“Huh?” Lottie woke in a panicked mass of red hair, looking for any sign of danger, until she realized where she was and sighed, laying back on the bed and rubbing her eyes. “Shit,” she muttered, rolling off his chest. “I only meant to nap for thirty minutes.”

“How’s your stomach feeling?” Luke asked, propping himself on one shoulder. “Did the nap help?”

“No,” Lottie groaned, rolling on her side. “It’s fine,” she dismissed, waving her hand, “it’ll go away soon. You should start getting ready to go.”

“I have an idea,” Luke suggested, getting up from the bed. “You may not like it, but-”

“Oh, go on,” Lottie said with a yawn.

“Vad-my father-he manipulated your body with the Force, correct?”

Lottie nodded, giving Luke a questioning look. “That’s right.”

“What if I could fix it?” Luke said, his eyes lighting up slightly as he propositioned Lottie, getting up from the bed to walk to her side. “With the Force. I learned about healing while I was away, and I think, if you gave me time, I could-”

“Luke, I don’t know,” Lottie said, shaking her head. “I don’t want you to go through all that trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Luke countered. “It’s practice.”

“Do you think the Force can really fix this?” Lottie gestured in a sweeping motion to her body. “My health was  _ fucked  _ long before-”

“Yeah, but,” Luke sighed, running a hand through her hair. “My father made you infertile using Dark Force techniques. To every dark there is a light. There must be  _ something  _ I can do to fix it.” Lottie became acutely aware that he seemed to be talking more to himself than her, sitting up slightly.

“Luke, you know I don’t blame you, right? What I said at first, I was just-”

“I know,” Luke said. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t blame myself.  _ Haven’t  _ blamed myself since you got out of prison.”

Lottie sighed, resigning herself, and then stood up, dropping her skirt in a pool around her feet, Luke quickly turning his head.

“Well, go on then,” she said, laying back down on the bed in naught but her shirt and a pair of underwear. “Let’s do this.”

“You know, you  _ could  _ give me warning when you’re about to just take your skirt off in front of me.”

“I can’t believe you’re still embarrassed about that,” Lottie said, shaking her head. “You’ve seen a lot more of me.”

“It was  _ one  _ Force vision-”

“Oh, and three months on Tatooine?” Lottie raised an eyebrow. “Gods, you go back to learning how to be a Jedi and suddenly you’re a monk.”

“I’m not a  _ monk, _ ” Luke protested. “Just a little shocked at your consistent lack of boundaries.”

“Fair,” Lottie admitted, crossing her arms. “C’mon, Wonder Boy. Let’s do this.” She took his hand and guided it to just under her belly button.

“This may hurt,” Luke warned, raising his eyes to meet hers.

“I trust you,” Lottie declared, her voice lowering just slightly, giving his hand a slight tap before her hand dropped to her side, eyes closing in anticipation.

The next thing she heard was Luke’s familiar intake of breath when he set his mind to something. Her already-inflamed stomach turned knots as she anticipated the agonizing pain that Vader had inflicted on her, only she didn’t. Instead, her anxiety was suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of calm, coming from somewhere other than her own mind. 

Years later, she still would find it hard to describe Luke’s effect on her with the Force, both invasive and welcoming, familiar and intimate and yet deeply exciting and new, all at the same time. Any pain she felt was quelled by a strong, sure presence in her mind-she knew it was his. Her first instinct was to take his hand, and yet she knew she didn’t need to. He was there, by her side, his hands pressing on her abdomen. She found herself getting lost in it, almost  _ drunk  _ on it, smiling almost involuntarily.

“Lottie,” Luke said, after a few minutes, snapping his fingers in front of her face. “Lottie, hey. Wake up.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” Lottie protested, her eyes snapping open. “Did you do it?”

“I-well, okay, I’m not a medical professional, so I didn’t want to, well,  _ break  _ anything, but-”

“Luke,” Lottie said, her voice impatient. “Did you do it?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice coming out with a shaky laugh and a large smile. “It’s not perfect, I don’t know if it ever  _ will  _ be, but-”

Lottie cut him off by pressing her lips against his, throwing her arms around his neck and, not for the first time, taking him aback as she almost tackled him to the bed. He kissed back after the initial shock wore off, pressing his palm into the bed as another hand threaded in her hair, Lottie’s giddy smiles and laughter contagious.

“Luke,” Lottie managed, breathless and disbelieving, pulling away as she looked him up and down, her hands resting on his biceps. “How did you do it?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, his tone matching hers, unable to stop himself from taking her face in her hands and kissing her again, short and passionate, “I just did it, and it’s right. I know it is.”

Lottie laughed, still incredulous, “This is, this is-wonderful,” she finally decided, embracing him, resting her chin on his shoulder. Her gleeful smile slowly dimmed as she came to a harsh realization. “I can’t ever thank you properly for this.”

“You don’t need to,” Luke said.

Lottie pulled away from him, shaking her head. “Yes I do, I don’t-”

This time, Luke was the one to cut the other off with a kiss, Lottie responding instantly. “Just shut up, for once in your life, and accept a good thing, will you?” Luke joked, causing Lottie to giggle.

“Alright then,” Lottie said, slightly breathless and taken aback by the sudden, immediate change in their relationship. 

Lottie began to realize then there were variations of a person-there was the Luke everyone knew; kind, friendly, compassionate, caring. There was the Luke the Fox Squadron knew; easily frustrated, somehow both insecure and boyishly boastful, naive. Then there was the Luke that she was discovering; his hand tangled in her hair, his lips on hers, assertive, moving on instinct, and yet completely at ease. This boy, all of him, had a control over her that should have scared her, and still she found herself relinquishing it to him, letting her carefully guarded walls down as she offered herself up to him, body, mind, and soul.

Her legs carefully wrapped around his abdomen, his back against the wall as the kiss continued. If this was the man she loved, that some mystical power had decided she would be with, then so be it-he could have her, all of her, every kind of person she would ever be.

“Lottie?” Luke finally spoke, separating from her. “I-still have to leave.”

Lottie only nodded, giving a short laugh.

“Buzzkill?” Luke asked, joining in her mirth.

“Just a little bit,” Lottie replied, moving off him and to the other side of the bed. “Oh, go on then. You’re right, Han and Leia will be waiting.”

“You’ll be okay?” Luke asked, standing hesitantly. “Besides, I-um-well, you probably wouldn’t want to be doing  _ that  _ when my hand’s like this.” He raised his artificial hand, wires still poking out of the synthflesh.

Lottie shrugged “”As’nt stopped me yet, now, has it?” she asked rhetorically, and gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s  _ fine _ . Go. We’re both in far less danger than we were the last time we said goodbye.”

“Goodbye, then,” Luke said, unsure of what to say.

“I’ll see you soon. Your boots are in the kitchen.”

As he left, Lottie found herself laughing incessantly. Their relationship was that frustrating kind of hilarious-each time anything of significance happened, one of them got sent to prison, or had an insane father, or they simply overslept.

After a moment, Lottie rushed out of the door, pulling her skirt over her legs and finding Luke walking towards the  _ Disciple _ .

“Luke!” she called, running towards him, hitching the skirt above her knees.

“What? Is something wrong?” He turned towards her as she smiled almost involuntarily.

For the final time, she wrapped her arm around his neck, the crook of her elbow drawing her head to hers, kissing him with the promise that only the future held, wind blowing her hair behind her as his hand rested on her side.

Luke only smiled and drew breath as she pulled from him, perhaps just as giddy as her, taking her hand and squeezing it, the best goodbye he could say. He turned and she watched him fly the ship back to Tatooine.

She ran a hand through her hair, leaning against a post on the porch, closing her eyes. For the first time in a long time, she felt uncontrollably happy, and closed the door on the night sky, Tatooine only a blip in the vast darkness.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue in Lower Coruscanti is bolded.

Lottie can remember the first time she visited the graveyard. She was seven, and blind. The grassy hill was to her small feet a mountain, nearly falling over Papa as he scooped up to carry her on his shoulders, Lottie recognizing the familiar sound of Da’s coughs and his deep, commanding voice as he led their prayers in Coruscanti.

It took her forever to find it again three years later, gaining the sense of sight but losing the people who guided her. She reckoned Luke hadn’t even noticed then that she had gone to build her fathers’ graves, and even if he had, he was smart enough not to ask any questions. At least, not until later.

The small patch of grass sat dead center in the middle of tallest hill on the island, hidden by a forest of pine trees and a five and a half mile hike. From here, you could see the whole island-the mainland, too. The ocean breeze blew fiercely-Lottie tied up her hair with a spare ribbon halfway on the walk up, her unruly curls flying in front of her and obscuring her vision. Neatly tucked into a ponytail, it now brushed against her semi-bare shoulders, threatening to get stuck in a bra strap that poked out of her flouncy top. The graveyard itself was small, shoddily built-not unlike Lottie’s original Coruscanti home, or in fact, her current address. Graves were marked by sticks of wood in the shape of an X, names carved in bare-bones Coruscanti by a knife. It was a miracle none of them toppled under the fierce wind. Lottie recognized her own handwriting on the ones marked “Lel Dorchester” and “Vincent Ayger Dorchester,” nodding with respect to the graves before kneeling behind them, putting a small backpack down next to her. Seeing it for the first time three years ago, she sobbed for hours-she sometimes forgot that she was still a part of a family, not by blood, of course, but still; a proud one that went generations back. She swore the grave had a power too, a feeling- like you were being watched, but not in a negative way. Like you were surrounded by your friends. Like those you buried were actually there watching, listening.

She pushed the thought out of her mind, focusing on the task at hand. She took two sticks and twine, and began to wrap them around the center of the crossed twig, calloused, tattooed hands unfazed by the harsh textures. Once the small grave was built, Lottie created another, and stuck them next to each other, carving the names “Pazima Reynard” and “Nkosi” respectively on each cross. She holstered the small blade and began to dig with a small garden shovel under Pazima’s grave.

She didn’t have Pazima’s ashes. Wedge and Jax had scattered them long ago. Lottie didn’t blame them-she wouldn’t have wanted to hold Pazima’s frozen body any longer if the only relative she had was similarly dead, at least at the time. The only thing she had left of Pazima was various jewelry pieces that Wedge had given her. They were gold and ornate, inlaid with rubies and sapphires. They were jewelry of all kinds-earrings, necklaces, ankle bands, nose rings. Pazima very rarely wore them, save for small earrings, a small diamond in her nose, and her belly button ring. Lottie could remember the first time she saw her wearing full jewelry on Alderaan. She got used to Pazima’s stunning beauty quickly, but that still took her aback, making her blink and stammer that she was somehow adopted by this woman so otherworldly that she made a sound when the jewelry moved with her.

She felt tears sting her eyes as she felt the belly button ring, the last piece of Pazima, slip past her fingers and into the dirt. It was such a permanent part of her sister, like an extra appendage, or her tattoos, or the track marks that stained them. She wiped her eyes, covering the hole with extra dirt. She had done enough crying-and she hadn’t even said her prayers yet, or finished the ceremony.

She had nothing to bury in the Nkosi’s grave. Truthfully, she didn’t even know who they were, how many strong they were. They were just her mysterious adopted family long gone. Still, they were family, and she gave the grave a small nod before she took a hunting knife from her thigh, raising it ceremoniously and wincing as she cut across the palm of her hand, a clean red mark between the fading vines. She raised her hand, balling it into a fist as the blood dripped out of her hand and stained the ground. Lottie spread the blood evenly between the two graves, beginning to say the Coruscanti prayer as her hand bled.

“ **As you are born in blood, so shall you leave; drenched in the blood of your blood as you sail into the land of the Gods, the Force guiding your way. May your journey be safe and strong, protect those of us left in this plane, and run forever as you shall be immortalized on this plane and the next.** ”

Lottie sighed, wrapping her hand in spare cloth.

“I don’t really believe in any of that shite,” she began, cocking her eyebrow at Pazima’s grave, “but apparently you sent me a mission from the beyond, so who knows? Maybe there are gods after all.”

She sat back on her knees, the ritualistic tone of her actions gone. “I ‘ad a hard time believing that the gods meant to protect us were the same ones that killed my family. So maybe the Force is real, but the gods ain’t. Anyway, it was just something my da used to do. He was the religious one. But I think he was more afraid, than anythin’, really, afraid of his ancestors being disappointed in him.” She paused again. “Anyway, I’m ramblin’ on as usual. Welcome to the family graveyard!” she said, mockingly showing her hands around. “You ain’t never been here, but, uh, it’s nice. Nice day. Windy, a bit cold, but nice. An’ the Nkosis, well, I don’t even know who you are. But you’re welcome here too. Everyone’s welcome here when they’re dead.

“A lot has happened since you passed on. I went to prison. That sucked. Although I’m sure you know, and according to Luke, you were there with him too, being our ghost pimp or some shit.” She gave a short laugh. “Y’know, I thought he had gone half-mad, but when he said that, I believed him. Even if it wasn’t you, a conscience or whatever, you _would_ be lookin’ out for my sexual well-being in the afterlife. Hell, maybe _I’ve_ gone half-mad. I’m talkin’ to dead people, for Gods’ sake. You can’t even hear me. I don’t even know the rest of you!”

Lottie fell back on her knees, shaking her head. “Oh, whatever. It doesn’t matter. I think being alone has a negative effect on me, after all. Two weeks alone and I’m talking to myself.”

After a brief pause, she spoke honestly. “Y’know, maybe it’s just cause I miss talking to you. And I do. Remember how we used to sit for _hours,_ you would braid my hair or I would cook dinner, or we would try to watch a film but keep pausing it because we had something to say to each other. We would talk about the stupidest shit too, just whatever we thought of, but it was nice. I miss your voice, too. Not even just talking, I just miss hearing your voice. I remember hearing you sing at the brothel, you had a beautiful voice. It took me aback. I mean, that was the first night I drank too, so it was an important night overall. But your voice was good too. And you taught me how to sing, too. I wasn’t any good at it but-it was fun to sing together.

“Oh! Speaking of drinking, I’m off alcohol now. I still smoke, I’m never gonna get rid of that. But I’m done with that! I miss it a lot, I really do, but I figured that was one good thing that came from prison, in a way. Gave me a fresh start to cut that out of my life.” Lottie paused again, scratching her head. “Oh, also, I’m a celebrity now.” She gave another laugh. “Well, at least, my face is. It was plastered everywhere, and apparently people thought its distinctive ugliness and prison look was inspiring or whatever, so it’s become some rallying thing for the Rebellion. Can you believe it? Me, a rallying cry. I can’t even get Jax to listen to me half the time, much less the Rebellion. But if my ugly face has done anything in life, at least it’s something good, eh?

“Jax is fine, by the way. He’s doing the best out of all of us, really. He’s sad, but, for some reason, he just handles it better. Maybe it’s ‘cause his dad died so young, I don’t know. But he’s doing okay. Wedge, I know you’re wondering about him, he says he’s alright but,” Lottie sighed, “I think he’s hurt more than he lets on, y’know? He always tries to be this strong person, especially around me. He always feels like he has to be my dad but, y’know, I got a dad. I got two of ‘em,” Lottie joked, tilting her head to the graves behind her. “I just wish he could see that I don’t need him to be strong all the time. Maybe I did when I got out of prison, but, y’know, not all the time.”

Lottie suddenly perked, switching to a happier topic. “Let’s see, what else? I got a new tattoo! And you’ll never guess who gave it to me,” Lottie said scandalously. “Well, you’re dead, so, you can’t guess. Anyway, it was Luke. Yeah. I got _Luke Skywalker,_ of all people, to give me a tattoo. It’s supposed to look like yours, cute, huh? My prison brand was never comin’ off, so I thought I could make somethin’ good come out of it.” She turned her wrist, admiring the roses on her arm. “I can’t believe you got all yours done in one sitting. I couldn’t imagine. I mean, I knew you were strong, y’know, you could probably dead lift my weight, but,” She let her voice trailing off, glancing towards the grave to her left. “And what about you guys, huh? My adopted, mysterious family. Did you all get tattoos in one sitting? Could you dead lift my weight?” She poked the grave with her toe, as if prodding someone for an answer.

Lottie wrapped her hands around her knees, resting her head on her knees. “I haven’t mentioned Luke, I guess,” she muttered. “He wasn’t doing well, for a while. It was some-family stuff, we’ll say, some stuff I don’t even want to talk about to you. I mean, I’m alone, I’m talking to myself, but still. On the off chance you’re listening as a ghost, it feels a bit wrong, you know. Anyway, he had that for a while, and I’ll admit, I was a right prick to him about it at first. But he was kind of a right prick about it and-Well. Anyways. It’s fine now. We’re fine.”

“I told him about Todd,” Lottie added, striking a more serious tone. “He...he took it well. Todd had to take care of me after prison, or else I would’ve died. I mean, it was a miracle I survived anyways, but-still. I don’t particularly enjoy seeing his face.

“Still,” Lottie considered. “I rendered him both dickless and handless. I suppose that would be a fate worse than death. What he deserves, really.” Lottie sighed, finally resigning herself to what she meant to say.

“I miss you,” she said finally. “I just...not a day goes by when I don’t wish I could talk to you, or spar with you, or just sit in your general presence. I miss walking in on you and Wedge having sex, and me and Luke pranking you by playing the least sexy songs outside of your door. I miss you fucking up whatever recipe you decided to fuck up that day. I miss seeing you and Jax working on some science problem together. I could never understand any of it, but I just miss it. I miss the way you would hum when thinking. I miss having to get all your pills myself because you couldn’t be trusted with them. I miss the way when, after a mission, you would take your helmet off and give this big huff, and pat me on the back. I miss you hugging me, or sitting with me when I had nightmares. I just miss you.”

Lottie broke down crying, sobbing into her bare knees, eyes closed tightly shut. She cried for a long time, and eventually, just sat, listening to the seagulls cry and the trees’ leaves blow in the wind. She wasn’t often silent, but she took it in.

Wiping the tears from her eyes after what felt like hours, she spoke again. “Sorry. Sorry I talked about your sex life in front of your probably-parents.” She choked a laugh out between tears. “I guess that-”

She was interrupted by a loud, short buzzing coming from her backpack, unmistakably her comm unit.

“Are you _kidding,_ ” Lottie muttered, rummaging to answer it. “I’m in the middle of a fucking conversation with my dead sister and Leia decides to comm me-” Her eyes raised, surprised to see Jax’s name on the screen, but answered it anyway, irritation on full display.

“Jax, you utter shit,” she muttered.

“Lottie! Ah, I missed those dulcet tones.” His voice registered loud and clear over the comm unit. “What’re you doing?”

“If you must know, I’m holding a pretend conversation with Pazima. Anything you’d like to say to her?”

“What, to Pazima? Fuck you,” Jax said succinctly, both of them breaking out in laughter. “I miss you. But also, fuck you.”

“You know what, Pazzy? You’re actually not missin’ much.”

“Oh she’s missing a _lot,_ have you been telling her what you and a certain _Jedi_ have been up to lately?”

“Jax-” Lottie whined.

“They sleep in the same bed, Pazima! And yet, they’re apparently _not_ having sex.”

“We’re not-”

“If she was here, she would agree with me that that’s total bullshit. In fact, if she was here, she would not have let this stupid-ass relationship continue at this bitch level. Like, you _know_ she wouldn’t.”

Lottie put her head in her hand. “Gods, I can hear it now.”

In a perfect imitation of Pazima’s accent, Jax announced, “‘I swear, Charlotte, if you do not go fuck that man yourself, I will, and you know he will _not_ resist this because no man is immune-”

Lottie couldn’t even hear the rest of Jax’s imitation over her laughter, bringing a different kind of tears to her eyes. “It’s scary how well you do her voice.”

“I know, I’m so talented.”

Lottie rolled her eyes. “Talented, my arse. Anyway, why’d you comm? You know I said emergencies.”

“I know, and this is one.”

“I’m _not_ going to tell you about-”

“It’s not about you and Luke. Well, it is, but-Listen. While you’ve been gone we got intel. They’re building a second Death Star-”

“What?!” Lottie cried indignantly. “How did they not notice, that shit is huge!”  
“So is space, bitch. Anyway, they’re building it, but we have to act _now,_ because-Listen, I don’t know all the details, I was just brought here on the splice squad. Anyway, we need to take this base down on Endor. A shield generator. And then we could blow the whole thing up. And Lottie, if we do this, this could _really_ turn things in our favor. Not a victory, not yet, but, a turning point.”

“Sounds great,” Lottie said. “So what does this have to do with me?”

Jax sighed, the way one does when asking a difficult question. “Listen, we need more medics. I mean, that’s the official reason why I’m calling.”

“And the unofficial reason?”

“It’s Luke-”

“Gods, Jax-”

“No, Lottie, it’s not about that! Well, it is, but-Listen. He’s here. On Endor.”

“What? He’s there? He didn’t tell me.”

“Yeah, I know. He’s been acting really strange, like _really_ strange. He keeps talking about having to do something, how he’s endangering the mission, how he shouldn’t be here. He keeps saying _Darth Vader_ is on the Death Star, of all godsdamn people.”

“Wait, he said _that_?”

“Yeah, he did. Weird, right?”

“No,” Lottie said darkly. “Not weird.” She knew that if Luke thought Darth Vader was on that ship, he was right-and that if Darth Vader knew he was on that ship, he knew Luke was on Endor. That meant Vader was out for blood, and he would get Luke’s by killing as many people as possible.

“See?” Jax said, almost excited as Lottie contemplated what he had said. “Okay, this is what I’m comming for. We need you to get down here and find out what the fuck is going on with him. He’s not talking to _any_ of us, not even Leia. Maybe he didn’t comm you because he didn’t want to talk about whatever it is. Whatever it is, Lottie, it’s dangerous.”

“Yeah, no shit,” she muttered, and then snapped into gear, standing up and grabbing her backpack. “Okay, okay, I can get a transport out of here in about an hour. How fast could you meet me at Maz Kanata’s place?”

“Four hours? Give or take.”

“Okay, okay, that works. See you at Maz’s.”

“See ya.” Jax hung up the phone and Lottie turned to Pazima’s grave for a final time.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “Duty calls. But I’ll be back. Don’t worry.”

As she left, sun setting over the hill, she swore she heard a melody over the soaring wind, sung in a deep low voice, there, and then gone as quickly as it came.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue in Coruscanti is bolded.

“Just in time,” Jax said, stepping in front of Lottie, his feet landing on Endor’s soft grass. “Watch your step, it’s a bit muddy.”

“It’s night,” Lottie groaned. “The cycles are so different here, I knew I should have gotten more sleep at Maz’s.”

“You didn’t look it up before?”

“Didn’t really come to mind,” Lottie said quickly, hiking her duffel bag over her shoulder. “Where’s camp?”

“About a kilometer out, you can see the fires from here.”

“Not so secret of a camp, then,” Lottie mused. “I thought Wedge was gonna meet us.”

“Change of plans, he’s back on base,” Jax explained, checking his comm. “And we’re camping with a bunch of Ewoks. Locals. Inconspicous enough.”

“Ewoks?” Lottie raised her eyebrows. “Never heard of ‘em.”

“Yeah, apparently you don’t really see them outside of this moon,” Jax explained. “They’re nice enough, a bit annoying if I’m being honest.”

“You’re a bit annoying,” Lottie said playfully.

“Oh, I know,” Jax said, and then growled at his comm. “Damn thing has been acting up ever since we got here.”

“I thought you built yourself some super-comm?” Lottie asked conversationally.

“I did, but I haven’t updated it in a few months. Wedge wanted me to comm him when you got here.”

“He doesn’t trust you with the  _ Prophet _ ?” Lottie asked skeptically.

“No, he doesn’t trust the two of us to not get plastered at Maz’s bar.”

“Can you blame him? I’ve been off that shit,” she said proudly. “I feel great.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, leave the rest of us to drown our sorrows in liquor, thank you very much.”

“Does the med team know I’m here?” Lottie asked, suddenly realizing what her presence could mean. “Does anyone even know I’m  _ alive _ ?”

“Uh, no.” Jax gave a shaky laugh. “No, no one quite knows that yet. We’ve been waiting for you to decide to tell everyone.”

“Oh,” Lottie said. “Well. Maybe you should tell them that if I’m working with you guys tomorrow.”

“What, tell them you’re alive and then have you boarded up in meetings and psych evals all night? No thank you,” Jax finished in a sing-song voice. “No, I’m sneaking you into camp. We tell people in the morning.”

“The morning?” Lottie asked, crossing her arms. “Jax Collins, does this plan involve what I  _ think  _ it does?”

“I’m giving you a night to figure out what’s going on,” Jax defended. “If things happen, then, things happen.”

Lottie rolled her eyes and let out an incredulous laugh, Jax eventually joining in. Lottie wrapped her arms around his torso, leaning her head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm similarly on her shoulder. “You’re an arse, Jax Collins, but I love you.”

“I love you too, even though you break my wrists. And I believe you should replace ‘arse’ with ‘the best pimp in the entire world.’”

“You would be a shit pimp,” Lottie said, untangling herself from him.

“Are you kidding me? I would not, I’m organized, I’m-”

Lottie shushed Jax, putting a hand over his mouth and bringing him so they hid behind the bushes.

“That wasn’t a kilometer,” she whispered, looking to Jax as a Rebel guard walked past them.

“I overestimated,” Jax said. “Can you get in?”

“Of course I can get in,” Lottie muttered. “Where’s Luke’s room?”

“Get to the platform, it’s straight ahead, take a left, and then a right. Then it’s the second door on the right. He has a bedroll with an orange blanket on it.”

“Gods, it’s cold,” Lottie said, pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands. “Okay. Go distract the guard, I’ll sneak up.”

“I’ll check on you in the morning. Make me proud,” Jax said, giving her a knowing smile and a clap on the shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, go,” Lottie hissed, rolling her eyes.

Jax stood up, walking confidently over to the soldier. “Hey man!” he called, pulling his pockets for his ID. “Guess who’s back.”

“You get the supplies you wanted?” the guard said, lazily checking his ID and fingerprint.

“Yup! Took a while, but I found ‘em. You’d be surprise what Artoo units need to keep running these days, I swear, it’s-”

Lottie didn’t hear the rest of the conversation as she slipped past the guard, climbing up onto the raised platform of houses with practiced stealth. She winked at Jax before pulling the hood over her hair, sticking her hands in her pockets and walking quickly, following the instructions Jax gave her.

* * *

 

Lottie hid in the corner of Luke’s room some time later, shivering in the night breeze. Her stomach turned in anticipation, nervous and excited. Yes, he may be acting strangely, but she had been getting lonely on the island. Two weeks had been enough-she was ready to return to her world, to her place in it. She drummed her duffel bag in anticipation, waiting to pop out and surprise him.

“Hey, Lottie,” Luke greeted, Lottie groaning in response as he turned the light on in his small room, casting his eyes towards her huddled in the corner. 

“Aww,” she whined, getting up from her crouched position. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You did, I wasn’t expecting you to-Oof!” He laughed at the intensity of Lottie’s hug, wrapping his arms around her.

“How did you know I was here?” she asked, her voice muffled in his shirt.

“I felt your presence it’s, well it’s hard to explain, but-Gods, you’re cold,” he said, letting her go and grabbing a blanket from his bedroll, wrapping it around her shoulders. “Better?”

“Much, thanks,” Lottie said. Their conversation reached an uncharacteristic lull.

“How-how was the island?” Luke asked awkwardly, rubbing his arm. “The house still running?”

“Yeah, it’s great. I made my peace with Paz, I think.”

“That’s good,” Luke said encouragingly.

“Yeah, it is. But I can’t stay long, I had to dock the boat on the mainland and it’s really expensive,” she explained. “So I can stay two weeks, tops.”

“Oh,” Luke said, nodding, not willing to comment further.

“What about you?” Lottie asked, moving a bit to try to read his face. “Everything good?”

“Yeah, well, no, my master died-”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Lottie said sincerely.

“It’s okay, he was nine hundred years old, it’s not like he didn’t live a long life.”

“True,” Lottie admitted, Luke still unwilling to carry on conversation. “Why didn’t you comm m-”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Luke said abruptly, a hint of urgency in his voice. “It’s not safe.”

“Not safe, is it?” Lottie replied, spreading her arms out. “Seems perfectly safe to me.”

“No, Lottie, Vader-”

“I know,” she said, taking Luke aback. “Jax picked me up because you’ve been acting strangely, and he let that slip.”

“He picked you up on the island?”

“Maz Kanata’s.” Lottie paused, and began to speak again, “Luke, tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s not safe. I can’t have him knowing you’re here. That’s why I didn’t comm you,” Luke finally admitted. “I can’t have you going to prison on my behalf again.”

Lottie paused, taken aback by the sudden admission, and considered what he was saying. “I wouldn’t go,” she finally said. “He wouldn’t capture me again. Kill me, maybe. Probably.”

“What?”

“He’d kill me, if I got in his way to capture you. But he doesn’t need to draw you to him, so he wouldn’t capture me. Just kill me.”

“Like that’s any relief,” Luke scoffed.

“I’d rather die than go back to him,” Lottie protested. “And I’m not letting him take you while I live and breathe, so he’s going to have to kill me if he wants you.”

“Lottie-”

“Don’t say anything,” Lottie said, raising a finger and giving a frustrated sigh. “Does he know you’re here?”

“Yes,” Luke admitted. “That’s why I’ve been so pent up, as long as I’m here, I’m a danger to everyone around me.”

“You’re right,” she replied, weighing the options. “Okay, okay. There’s only one thing to do then.”

“What’s that?” Luke asked.

“We leave now. We bolt, don’t tell anyone. Go back to the island, live the rest of our days there. Jax isn’t even telling people I’m here till the morning, we have the entire night to pack, steal the  _ Disciple  _ and get the hell out of here.”

“You’re not serious,” Luke responded, shaking his head. “And throw away this? The Rebellion? Being the Fox?”

“If it means keeping you safe, yes, I’d throw it all away,” Lottie blurted out before she could stop herself. She felt her heart racing; the words held more implication than she originally meant to say. The truth spilled out of her like water in a jug, and she suddenly realized how right she was to hold off on their relationship beforehand. Luke realized it too, running a hand through his hair as he looked at her searching for words to respond.

“This isn’t your fight,” Luke said finally. “You don’t have to be sentenced to a life of solitude with me.”

“It wouldn’t be solitude! We’d have each other,” Lottie said, a playful smile creeping up on her features. “Besides, you need my fingerprint to get into the house.”

“No I don’t,” Luke pointed out. “You added me to the system, remember?”

“Whatever,” Lottie dismissed. “It’s my house. And I’m not letting you have it without me in it.” She crossed her arms defiantly, drawing a metaphorical line in the sand.

Luke shook his head, giving a genuine laugh. “It’s tempting,” he admitted.

“So? Let’s do it,” Lottie said, as if it were obvious.

“I can’t,” Luke said. “I-you’re gonna think I’m crazy.”

“No I won’t,” Lottie insisted.

“I’m going to turn myself over to him.”

“What?!” Lottie didn’t even have time to come up with a clever response. “You-I-what?!”

“I’m gonna do it, and I think I can turn him to the light. There’s good left in him.”

“Luke,” Lottie sighed, her already doe-ish eyes wide, “There ain’t nothin’ good about that man. You going on that ship is just a suicide mission.”

“I know,” Luke admitted. “I know there’s no good odds, and I know I sound crazy. Hell, maybe I am crazy. I just know that-when he communicates with me, whenever I feel him in the Force, there’s this hope within him. A fool’s hope, the one you cling to when you have nothing left. It’s there, this tiny pinprick of light. And if anyone’s going to bring the light out of him, it’s me.”

Lottie bit her lip, sniffing and turning from him, shaking her head and drawing the blanket closer to her neck.

“You think I’m insane,” Luke said dejectedly.

“Nothing I can say will change your mind, will it?” Lottie said, still not looking towards him.

“No.” Luke took a step closer to her.  
“The shitty thing is you’re probably right,” Lottie said, feeling tears sting her eyes. “There probably is good left in that old bastard, but,” She took a deep breath, fighting back sobs, “I don’t want you to die.”

Luke put a gentle hand on her shoulder, speaking softly. “If I succeed, I won’t-”

Lottie swatted his hand away, turning abruptly to face him, tears freely flowing now. “Jax said the Emperor’s there too, what about him? Even if, by some miracle, you turn Vader good, then what? What about him?”

“We could defeat him together,” Luke explained patiently. “It would be alright.”

Lottie crossed him and sat on the bedroll. She didn’t speak for a long time, her mind racing in too many different directions at once. She was angry, yes, angry beyond words-Luke would just up and leave her, his damn hero complex getting the better of him. Moreso, she was angry because he made sense, and because his hero complex was not without a basis. This was the brave option, this was the chivalrous option, the honorable one. If he died, he would be a hero.

She was angry at herself that she picked this fool of a man to love.

“You couldn’t just pick the damn house, could you?” she grunted, startling Luke with her sudden speech.

“Oh, trust me, that choice is the much better one,” Luke said. “But we both know I can’t take it.”

“Yeah,” Lottie said, the anger in her voice subsiding. “You’re a hero.”

“As long as you think so,” Luke countered.

“Well, no time like the present, eh?” Lottie said, getting up and wiping tears from her eyes, putting a smile on her face. “I guess I should just come out and say it.” She found herself stalling, her stomach boiling in nerves. It didn’t make sense to her; she had faced worse demons, said worse things, done worse, and yet sometimes, telling the truth was the scariest of all of them.

“I love you,” Lottie admitted with a sharp intake of her eyes. “I do. I love you, in every way, as a friend, as a partner, as a teammate, as a lover. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to start a family with you. There’s no one I’d rather have stuck with me on an island for the rest of my life, or at least spend one final night with.” She ended with a huff, searching Luke’s face for some kind of answer.

It was probably only a second, but it felt like years before Luke’s shock was replaced with a smile, as he said with a laugh, “Me too.”

“Me too, what?” Lottie said indignantly.

“Me too, all of it. I-I love you too,” he replied. “I love you.”

The two paused, searching for more words, before they both just laughed. It only felt natural-it made sense to Lottie that what should be one of the happiest moments of her life was also the saddest.

“We have terrible timing, don’t we?” Lottie said.

“The worst,” Luke agreed.

“You know, if this were a different galaxy, this would be a fairy story ending.”

“If this were a different galaxy, we never would have met,” Luke pointed out.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Lottie said, taking a step towards him and twirling her fingers in his left hand, watching them dance intricately. “We would have found each other somehow.”

“Mmm,” Luke agreed, joining her in looking at their hands.  “I’m glad you came,” he said, his tone shifting to a more serious one. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m sorry if you thought I wasn’t.”

“I didn’t. You were looking out for me,” Lottie shrugged, taking her hand in his. “That’s what we do.”

Luke’s hand left hers and found her waist, pulling her closer to him for a kiss. Lottie felt her body warm to his instantly; she assumed he would forever feel like coming home, each time they touched leaving her only wanting more, to stay in his warmth forever.

The blanket warming her body dropped to the floor. She didn’t care, only allowing more movement to wrap her hands in the nape of his neck, nails digging into the loose hair at his scalp.

“Lottie, whatever happens,” Luke said breathlessly, taking her by surprise as they separated, “I’m yours.”

“So am I,” Lottie replied. “No matter what.”

“No matter what,” Luke repeated, a smile creeping up on his face as he kissed her again.

Lottie felt their embrace shift, but unlike before, it didn’t scare her. She felt a familiar thrill in the pit of her stomach, no longer nervous, but excited as their hands moved in a pattern similar to the one interrupted only two weeks ago. The admissions of the night only emboldened her with a certain lustful urgency as she opened his shirt at the collar, exploring his bare shoulders as her mouth moved down his neck.

“Lottie, wait,” Luke protested, pulling them apart. “Are you  _ sure _ ?”

“Of course I’m sure,” she said impatiently. “Aren’t you?”

“I-well,  _ yes, _ but-” He raised his gloved hand. “I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

Lottie smirked, taking a purposeful step towards him. She took the glove off slowly, finger by finger, her eyes focused on the task at hand. Sythflesh and wires exposed, Luke inhaled sharply.

“Does it hurt?” Lottie asked, lidded eyes meeting his.

“No,” Luke replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” she said simply. Her hand not leaving his right, she drew it to her breast, bare under her sweatshirt, Luke’s breathing becoming heavy as he gazed at their conjoined hands, his eyes a mixture of hesitance and desire.

“C’mon,” Lottie whispered, her mouth mere centimeters from his, lips touching briefly as he looked to meet her gaze. “Run with me.”

* * *

 

Pazima told her about it, once.

Lottie must’ve been fourteen, and curious, as most young girls are. She had  _ seen  _ the act, of course-you certainly couldn’t take care of whores without seeing people having sex at least a  few times.

“What’s it like?” Lottie asked suddenly, picking at a loose thread on her pants.

Pazima’s eyebrow quirked, lowering the datapad obscuring her face. “What is  _ what  _ like?”

“Sex,” Lottie replied suddenly, the blush growing in her cheeks out of character for the unusually mature child.

Pazima put her datapad down, sighing and untying the rope that held her braids back. “Well, between a man, or a woman?”

“A man, I guess.” Lottie’s voice, constantly hoarse after Alderaan, shook a little as she bent her knees and wrapped her arms around them, putting her chin on the caps.

“Not like how Todd-”

“I know.” Lottie’s eyes squeezed shut, shaking her head. “No...like...with an actual man. The first time.”

“Hmm. Well, it hurts. And it doesn’t last very long. And he doesn’t know what he’s doing. And you bleed.”

Lottie’s eyes widened, turning to look at her sister. “You  _ bleed? _ ”

Pazima nodded. “Mmhm,” she replied calmly to her terrified sister.

“Well, then, why do people even bother?”

“After you get used to it, it feels good.” Pazima said matter-of-factly. “The first time I had sex was with a boy when I was your age. I never saw him again after that.”

“Aren’t you supposed to love the person?”

“No. You don’t have to.”

What Pazima neglected to tell Lottie, maybe something that Lottie knew that Pazima didn’t, was that loving the person  _ helped.  _ Yes, she got many things right-it does hurt, and girls do bleed, and it certainly doesn’t last long. But Pazima didn’t tell Lottie that when you love someone, there’s tender touches and open-mouthed kisses along scars and messy, sloppy ones that are half-kissing and half-giggling. Sex is constant reassurance and the feeling of being so impossibly  _ close  _ to someone, it coalesces in the air around Lottie and she babbles in her native language, too ecstatic to go through the mental hoops of translation. 

“ **Ji braim tu** ,” she whispers finally, a solemn prayer against his skin, the hoarse voice no longer childlike and scared but of the woman Lottie has been for years. “ **Ji braim tu, mo bel buaçon** .”


	25. Chapter 25

For all of Pazima’s many lectures on the subject, and Lottie’s considerable exposure to it, no one quite tells you how to handle the after. That was her first coherent thought- _ What the hell happens now? _ -formed as she absently stroked the back of Luke’s neck, his hair damp with sweat between her fingers.

“Sorry,” Luke muttered after a long silence of only the breath of the two lovers. He rolled off of her, wiping his forehead.

“Mmm?” Lottie said, breaking out of her reverie and turning to him. “What are you sorry for?”

“I think I crushed you a bit,” Luke explained, sitting up to reach for the blanket at the end of the bed.

“Luke, I’m not a  _ doll, _ ” she laughed, reaching up to brush his bicep with her fingertips, catching his attention and making him smile. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“You’re just-small,” Luke decided, taking a blanket and covering Lottie’s naked body, letting his hand rest on her side for a moment. “You’re so tiny, I didn’t even realize before, um, now,” Luke finished awkwardly, searching for a blanket of his own.

“Come lie with me, Luke,” Lottie whined, tugging on his arm. “There’s no room for two people on this bedroll anyways.”

“Mmm,” Luke said, giving her a smile and a brief kiss as Lottie nestled her head on his chest, wrapping the blanket around the two of them. “I was waiting for you to say that.” 

“You didn’t have to wait,” Lottie said. “I love it when we just sleep together like this.”

“Me too,” Luke said, rubbing familiar patterns on her bare shoulder. “But you have to agree, this is a bit different.”

Lottie shrugged. “I guess so.”

“I didn’t...well, um,” Luke coughed, not sure how to breach the topic, “did you enjoy it?”

Lottie laughed, propping herself up on her elbow. “I was waiting until you were gonna bring it up. Yes, I did enjoy making love to you, Luke Skywalker.” 

“Good,” Luke said, trying to hide a smug smile.

“What about you?” Lottie asked. “Is it what you thought it’d be?”

“Well, no, but,” Luke paused, searching for his words, “I wasn’t nearly as, ah,  _ educated  _ as you are-”

“Are you callin’ me a slut?” Lottie teased.

“No!” Luke insisted. “You just know a  _ lot  _ more about these sorts of things than I do.”

“I guess I do,” Lottie muttered, turning from him. “I couldn’t escape that knowledge, Pazima nearly bombarded me with it.”

“Wedge tried,” Luke sighed. “And failed spectacularly.”

“Oh, I remember,” Lottie muttered darkly. “That reminds me, I’m gonna get a mouthful from Jax tomorrow, who I’m  _ sure  _ will find the need to comm Wedge.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll wake up naked in your bed, Luke, what do you  _ think  _ that looks like?”

“Ah,” Luke nodded. “I suppose it would look suspicious.”

“It’s alright. I’m not  _ ashamed  _ of it,” Lottie said. “I just don’t really want to deal with Jax tomorrow.”

“I understand,” Luke said, pausing before he asked, “What were you saying before?”

“What do you mean?” Lottie glanced up to him at the sudden change in subject

“You were saying Coruscanti stuff before. What did that mean?”

“Oh,” Lottie said, laughing, waving away his question with her vined hand. “Nothing, really. A lot of swear words. I said that I love you,” she said, after a pause.

“I love you too,” Luke replied. “How do you say that?”

“ _ Ji braim tu, _ ” Lottie said.

“ _ Ji braim tu. _ ” Luke repeated. “It’s a very pretty language.”

“Well, thanks very much,” Lottie said.

“You say Coruscanti things in your sleep sometimes,” Luke pointed out.

“I do?”

“You do. It’s really cute.”

“Oh,” Lottie breathed, raising her eyebrows. “You just snore,” she pointed out. “It’s alright. It’s cute too, because you’re cute. I don’t mind it.”

Luke scoffed, shaking his head as he began to joke, “We’re disgusting. Look at us. This loved-up couple.”

“Horrible,” Lottie seconded. “I just want to vomit.”

“You’re really beautiful when you sleep. I mean, you’re beautiful all the time, but when you’re asleep, especially next to me, there’s the way your mouth just hangs open-” Luke traced her lips, Lottie giving his fingertip a kiss, “You’re so vulnerable when you sleep, and yet you trust me.”

“Of course I trust you, Luke,” Lottie whispered. Luke gave her a kiss on the head, lightly stroking her hair as they fell into silence for a moment.

“There’s so much I want to talk about, to tell you,” Luke admitted. “I’m so afraid we’re going to run out of time.”

“We aren’t,” Lottie insisted, tapping his chest lightly. “You’ll come back, and you can tell me whatever you want. But for now, we can talk.” Lottie shifted against his body, pulling the blanket up further. “I’m not tired.”

“I’m not either,” Luke said.

“You’re not?” Lottie raised her head abruptly, brows furrowing in confusion.

“No,” Luke answered skeptically. “Why? Should I be?”

“I mean, Pazima said guys just fall asleep right after sex.”

Luke scrunched his nose. “Wedge never told me that.”

“Well, Wedge also said his dick is seven inches long, and I’ve seen it. It’s no bigger than three, max.”

“ _ Gods,  _ Lottie, not the conversation or mental image I want to be having right now,” Luke groaned, Lottie covering up her laughter with her hand.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, still laughing.

“It’s alright,” Luke dismissed.

“So what do you want to talk about?” Lottie asked curiously.

Luke sighed as he began, absently examining Lottie’s fingers. “Well, there’s one thing I’ve always wondered, and if you can’t answer it, that’s okay, but I figured this would be the best time-”

“What is it?”

“Is Lottie Reynard your real name?”

“I knew you was gonna ask me that someday,” Lottie said quickly, giving a smile as she separated their hands. “No, it isn’t.”

“It’s Lottie Dorchester, right?”

“Ah, no,” Lottie said, giving an awkward laugh. “It’s Nadezhda, actually. Nadezhda Dorchester. People used to call me Nadya.”

“Holy shit,” Luke whispered. “I’ve been calling you by the wrong name this whole time.”

Lottie laughed. “‘S alright, only Pazima knew about it, and she’s gone now. We got Lottie from, uh, what my parents used to call me when I was a little girl. Lolli. It means red. And-well, it just sort of stuck.”

“Wow,” Luke said. “Glad I asked.”

“I’m glad you asked too,” Lottie said. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that. Figured you should know.”

“So what do I call you now?”

“Well, you certainly can’t call me Nadya out  _ there _ ,” Lottie pointed to the door, swirling her index finger. “But in  _ here, _ ” Lottie’s hand found itself back on Luke’s torso, slowly sliding down his abdomen as her lips traveled along his neck, “you can call me anything you like.” 

Their lips locked in a passionate kiss, Luke’s hands wrapping around Lottie’s back as her legs kicked the blanket off both of their bodies.

“Nadezhda Dorchester, are you trying to seduce me?” Luke asked playfully, raising an eyebrow and running his hands over her stomach.

“You said you weren’t tired,” Lottie challenged, equally as playful. “Prove it.”

* * *

 

Luke only absently returned the kiss Lottie gave him minutes later, resting his head on her chest as she laid on her side, wrapping his arms completely around her body.

“Now I’m tired,” he murmured, making Lottie laugh. “Good thing too, as I don’t know if I’d fall asleep.”

They had barely touched upon the topic before, Lottie only stubbornly insisting that he would live before moving on. Now, the wound was fresh as she held Luke in her arms. “I’m here, Luke,” she said gingerly, resisting the urge to make a witty quip. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”

“Will you marry me?” he asked suddenly, untwisting their two bodies to look at her, making Lottie nearly jump back.

“What?” Lottie said, mouth agape.  
“I mean, you were talking about us spending the rest of our lives at your parents’ house, it’s not _that_ controversial of a statement,” Luke said, as if it were obvious.

“Yes it is,” Lottie scoffed. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I do, and you did too. Say yes. C’mon. I might not have much time left.” Luke’s voice was shaky, but also urgent with the harsh reality of life during wartime; their love was new and fresh and exciting, and yet it may not last.

“Ask me again when you come back. Alive,” Lottie said defiantly, taking Luke’s hand in both of hers. “Then I’ll say yes.”

“But you would say yes now?” Luke asked.

“No, because I want you to have something to live for,” Lottie explained.

"I love you so much. And I'm going to come back for you. I always will." Luke said, giving her one last kiss, no longer filled with lust but desperation.

"I love you too," Lottie replied, breathless as they finally broke apart. "I know you will. Go to sleep now."

“Can I hold you?” Luke asked, and Lottie turned to her side, letting Luke’s arms wrap around her as she forced the tears in her eyes back, the familiar sound of his breathing and the warmth of his body turning into a lullaby.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: amputation, blood, gore, medical situations and procedures

Lottie was notorious for sleeping lightly, or not at all, suffering from bouts of insomnia only cured by shots of vodka at the age of fourteen, plagued with nightmares and the threatening feeling that someone was lurking outside of her door. The feeling eventually subsided to a mild anxious feeling as her mind drifted to sleep accompanied with a jolt of energy if the wind whistled too loudly or Luke shifted the wrong way. 

When he left the bed altogether, she froze. Her eyes bolted open as his arm slid slowly from her abdomen, a deep groan filling the room as the bedroll shifted slightly as his weight lifted from it. Lottie’s first instinct was to cry, to whine, to do  _ anything  _ to stop him from leaving. Her second was to just shut her eyes, pretend to sleep. If she was still deluding herself, then fine, she would delude herself and not say goodbye, not even consider the fact that he probably wasn’t going to return.

If she was being honest, he probably knew she was awake, but it didn’t matter. The things they were worst at were goodbyes, and this was one Luke had to give Lottie.

She heard the familiar scratching of fabric as Luke got dressed, the clink of metal as he strapped his lightsaber to his hip. Finally, she heard him take a step towards her, her eyes still squeezed defiantly, fighting back the tears threatening to reveal her wakefulness. A calloused hand raised the blanket over her partially exposed breast, resting lightly on her shoulder, tracing her arm to feel the raised bumps of tattoos and scars on the light flesh. Finally, a voice in the darkness;

“Whatever protection the Force may give me, let it pass onto her.”

Luke left her with a final kiss to her head, and the door to their room shut behind him as Lottie dared to open her eyes. She sat up shaking, finally allowing herself to sob as she clutched the blanket to her chest, balling it violently in her hands.

She then stood on shaky feet to walk to her bag, not realizing how naked she was until the night air bit at every inch of her skin, rubbing fiercely at her arms. She palmed in the darkness until the bottom of the bag opened, the glint of metal knives and swords dull in the moonlight. She chose whatever one her hand had landed on, clutching it in her hands as she returned to the bed.

That was how Jax found her, eyes open, unable to sleep, holding a knife as a child holds a plush toy. His presence was alerted by a sharp rap on the door, followed by a  _ thud  _ as his body rested on the wood outside.

His voice was muffled as he called out. “Luke,  _ please  _ tell me you’re in there-”

“He’s not,” Lottie replied, barely moving as Jax stumbled into the room.

“Well, where is he?” he mumbled, barely glancing at Lottie as he was engrossed in his datapad. 

“I don’t know,” Lottie lied. “He just left.”

“How did he just le-Hold on a minute. Are you naked?” Jax completely paused as he finally fully gazed at Lottie, his brows furrowing in confusion, a smile beginning to creep on his features. “In  _ Luke Skywalker’s  _ bedroom?”

Lottie only raised an eyebrow, sitting up and covering herself with a blanket. “Use your eyes, Jax Collins.”

“Holy  _ shit, _ ” Jax gasped, a triumphant, smug smile spreading across his face. “I gotta comm Wedge.”

“Called it,” Lottie muttered, finally getting up as she wrapped the blanket around herself, holding it with one hand as she clutched the knife in the other. “Listen, can we just get to the matter at hand-”

“Uh, no, we can’t-why the fuck are you holding a knife?! Is Luke that bad in bed?”

“This has nothing to do with his sexual performance,” Lottie scoffed, gesturing with her knife. “This is protection.”

“Ah, so you did have sex-”

“I’m currently standing wearing a fucking sheet from Luke Skywalker’s bedroll as a dress, what do you think we were doing? Talking politics?” She absentmindedly threw the knife in her bag, Jax dodging it without a second thought.

“I don’t know, y’all are weird,” Jax explained.

“Well, we had sex. There. Are you happy?” Lottie raised an arm in protest, her tone of voice clearly wanting the conversation to end, and quickly.

Jax raised a knowing eyebrow. “Are you?”

Lottie glared at Jax. “I’d be much happier in a different morning after without seeing your ugly face first thing in the morning, thank you very much.”

“You cut me deep, Charlotte.”

“I intend to.”

“Hopefully as deep as Luke went last night, you know what I’m sayin-” Jax broke into laughter as Lottie nudged his shoulder, smiling in despite of herself.

“Fuck you. Has Wedge finally picked up yet?”

“No,” Jax said frustratedly. “Want a cigarra?”

“Ugh, I’d love one,” Lottie said, desperately twirling her fingers as Jax handed her one, deftly lighting it for her as he stuck another in his mouth. “I need something to pick me up,” she mused, closing her eyes as she blew smoke, “I only got four hours of sleep last night, and if I’m gonna be-”

“Four hours?” Jax said, nodding slowly. “So it happened more than once, then.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“How many times?” Jax asked, his eyes lighting up with a mischevious glint.

“I’m not answering that.”

“Oh, come on,  _ please, _ ” Jax begged. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Oh, so Wedge counts as no one?” Lottie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“He’d find out anyway,” Jax dismissed. “C’mon, Lottie-”

“Twice,” Lottie said smugly, taking a hit of her cigarra.

“ _ Twice?! _ ” Jax exclaimed. “He didn’t fall asleep right after the first time?”

Lottie shook her head. “I was surprised too.”

“I’m impressed. Who knew Skywalker had that in him? Or, rather, in you-”

“Shut up!” Lottie protested. “Aren’t you curious as to where he  _ went _ ? Y’know, his well-being?”

“Of course I am, how this went is just a part of that!”

“You’re impossible.”

“So how many inches?”

Lottie scoffed, taking a hit of her cigarra. “Nice try,”

“Worth a shot,” Jax shrugged, smoke blowing from his nose.

“Wedge is comming,” Lottie said, nudging her head towards the comm unit Jax had affixed to his belt. He fumbled for it, and a hologram of Wedge Antilles lit up the room, the orange of his jumpsuit turning blue as he scratched at the collar, messing with the device before looking straight into the projector.

“Good morning, Jax Collins!” Wedge’s hologram greeted, a bright smile on his face. “You ready to defeat the Empire? Found Luke yet?”

“Uh, no, I haven’t found Luke yet, but there’s someone that would like to say hello, but she’s a little shorter than me, so I gotta stoop to her level-”

“I hate you-”

“Might even have to get on my knees, something she was probably doing last night-”

“I will fucking impale you, Jax Collins.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be the only person in this room who has gotten impaled in the last 24 hours, now would I?”

“Twenty-six, on this planet, hi Wedge,” Lottie said disdainfully, waving her cigarra.

“Lottie, why are you naked?” Wedge asked, Jax giving an excited thumbs up as Lottie rolled her eyes.

“Me and Luke had sex. There. Is that what you-”

“YES!” Wedge yelled at the top of his lungs. “My girl finally lost her virginity!”

“Thanks, Wedge.”

“So. How was your first time?” Wedge said patronizingly.

“Fine,” Lottie shrugged.

“Fine? I gotta talk to this boy, he’s gotta please you right-”

“Oh, he  _ pleased  _ me perfectly fine,” Lottie quipped, drawing jeers from the two men. “You two promise not to tell anyone else, you hear me? Luke would probably die from embarrassment.”

“On my life,” Wedge said. “But, alright, I gotta know, how big is he?”

“What is with guys and dick sizes?”

“Listen, you are the only person here who has seen him naked, we gotta find out.”

“This is vital information,” Jax seconded. “I mean, you’ve seen us naked.”

“Not by choice. He’s your guys’ mate, why do you care how big his dick is? You’re not

gonna fuck him!”

“You never know,” Jax muttered, Wedge’s hologram shaking as Lottie pushed him.

“No,” Lottie insisted. “He’s a taken man, I’ve made sure of that.”

“Whoo!” Wedge teased. “I mean, I knew you’d be good in bed, Lottie, but damn-”

“This is easily the worst morning of my life, and I’ve woken up in prison,” Lottie quipped.

“But the best night of your life, right?” Lottie only rolled her eyes in response to Wedge’s question. “C’mon, Lottie, we gotta know some details.”

“Fine. It happened twice-”

“Twice?!”  
“I know right? Go Luke!” 

“Yes, twice. Is that good enough for you?”

“Where is the man of the hour, by the way?”

“Lottie says she doesn’t know, but she does. I mean, Luke is a flawed man, but his after sex flaw would definitely be crying after, not up and leaving her.”

“First of all, he didn’t cry. Second, I can’t tell you where he went.”

“Why?”  
“He told me not to.” Another lie, but a better one. If Lottie told Wedge that Luke was on the Death Star, the mission would stop completely. And she knew that Luke wouldn’t want that.

“Is he on Endor?” Jax asked, suddenly curious.

“No,” Lottie said, giving Jax a dangerous look to end the line of questioning, at least for now. “It’s alright, he’s safe.”

Wedge shrugged. “Not like him to miss this battle, but whatever. I mean, he’s a changed man now.”

“You’re very welcome,” Lottie joked, giving an elaborate bow with a cigarra left in her mouth. “Go away now, I want to get dressed. And good luck, Wedge.”

“Well I certainly didn’t get lucky like you did, but here’s hoping we win the battle today. See you kids later.”

Lottie gave a short wave as Jax said goodbye, shutting the comm off before turning to Lottie, giving her a skeptical look as he asked, “Luke’s on the Death Star, isn’t he?” 

Lottie cocked an eyebrow, turning to Jax. “How did you know?”

“I’m not an idiot, I can tell when you’re lying,” Jax said, folding his arms.

Lottie puffed smoke before speaking; “Wedge couldn’t. And turn around, asshole, I’m getting dressed.”  
Jax threw up his hands in a defensive gesture, slowly turning to face the opposite direction as Lottie rummaged through her bag for a suitable pair of scrubs. “Well, Wedge is an idiot. And we both know Wedge would have called off an entire mission just to save the life of his best friend, who just so happens to be on the base he’s trying to destroy.”

Lottie nodded, pulling a pair of dirty sweatpants over her legs. “You’re right. He’s on the Death Star.”

“Because of Vader?” Lottie gave an affirmative hum, causing Jax to drop his cigarra with a groan. “He turned himself over to him?! Gods, Lottie, why didn’t you stop him?”

“I tried,” Lottie said simply, turning around, dressed in cheap gray clothing as she began to pack a bag to take to the med bay. “Twice. Put out your cigarra, you still smoke like a baby.”

Jax obeyed, rubbing the cigarra into the grass with his foot. “Fuck, Lottie, that’s rough.”

“And now you understand why I don’t particularly want to celebrate the recent loss of my virginity.” Lottie gave him a meaningful look as she stuffed her bag with extra clothes, cigarras, a lighter, a sheathed knife, credits-anything she could think of needing for the day.

“That’s a suicide mission,” Jax said, as if realizing it for the first time. “Lottie, he’s not  _ gonna  _ come back.”

“He promised me he would. And I don’t take promises lightly.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Maybe. I can’t think about it now anyways, I have to change and face whatever hell is out there,” Lottie slung her bag over her shoulder and cocked her head toward the door. “Did you tell them I’m here?”

“They know. Apparently, recruitment has gone up fifty percent since your poster.”

Lottie turned in surprise. “There’s new recruits here, because of me?” The concept was nearly impossible to her. She knew the poster was everywhere, she had seen it herself on various public transports on her way to Maz Kanata’s. Anyone having a response to it other than disgust, however, was completely foreign.

“Of course. Luke’s gonna have to come back, because your return is the sexiest thing to happen to the Rebellion since he blew up that damned Death Star. And he can’t hold onto a piece of ass like you for long.”

Lottie rolled her eyes. “You know, you are the most annoying person I have ever met.”

“I know,” Jax said proudly, wrapping an arm around Lottie’s shoulder. “C’mon, sex goddess, let’s get breakfast before all hell breaks loose.”

* * *

 

The Battle of Endor would forever be remembered as a decisive victory for the Alliance, but in the nightmare of the post-battle medbay, Lottie had barely registered it. In truth, she had barely any time to think about anything; her mind was too busy dealing with the usual influx of soldiers after a battle, and even when she got a break, it was hard to concentrate. The area around her smelled of blood and bile and vomit. Patients frequently came in with half-cauterized, half-bleeding blaster wounds, arms crushed under the foot of an AT-AT, heads bleeding, wounds infected from being stuck in the field as the battle moved elsewhere. In truth, this was why she used swords; a clean cut and it was over, it wasn’t a long death unless they deserved it. Battle like this was simply inhumane, on either side. 

She had been awake taking care of wounds longer than she could remember, subsisting on caf and the occasional smoke break, if she was lucky. She briefly had the state of mind to consider how it was a blessing in disguise; she didn’t have time to ponder the fate of her friends or lover. The only time it came into her mind was when the symphony of wails, pleas, and cries was interrupted by an unknown soldier bringing in news from the Rebellion after victory, usually accompanied by a rush of new patients to the med tent.

“We’ve got seven more patients incoming,” someone called over the din of the pop up medical bay, a tent of tarp filled to the brim with creaky stretchers and rickety carts of medical supplies, the grass beneath spotted with blood and pus, the occasional dump of disinfectant smearing the green to an unnatural yellow. “The pilots will be back any minute now too.”

Lottie wiped her brow, only vaguely aware of her patient’s blood being smeared across her forehead. “Has anyone heard anything about Wedge Antilles?” she called in the din.

“He’s alive,” her friend, Jocasta, said quickly, passing her a wet cloth to wipe her face. “They read his name out.”

“What about Luke Skywalker?” She obligingly took the cloth and ran it over her face, smearing makeup she hastily applied at breakfast this morning. “Anything about him?”

“He’s been missing since this morning,” she said, as if it were obvious, glancing towards a boy being carried two larger men. “Will you take this guy here? I need a caf.”

“Yeah, of course,” Lottie said, gesturing to an open stretcher as she helped the two soldiers lay the boy down. “Lay him here, I’ll take him.”

The soldier was young, barely even seventeen by Lottie’s guess. His forehead was damp with sweat and nearly burning at the touch as he panted, his breath occasionally drawing in as he grabbed at his knee.

“It’s my leg, Nurse,” he panted, pointing towards the very obvious injury of his foot, “it got shot, I couldn’t get out.”

“It’s okay, stop trying to touch it,” Lottie said quickly, swatting his hand away as she rolled up the bloody leg of his trousers, grabbing a new set of gloves. “What’s your name, soldier?”

“Iacopo,” he hissed as she gently touched the wound with her finger, hiding her grimace at the pus and blood. She could see bone poking out of the wound. By her estimations, he had been shot a couple of hours ago, maybe three, and was just left with the wound to fester before anyone found it. Very little outside the medical field realized that blaster wounds could do this, seen as “humane” weapons as they could cauterize instantly. But with a shot from an AT-AT, or any other heavy blaster rifle, they could take out chunks of flesh and bone.

Lottie kept her voice even, measured, a habit learned long ago, as her brain whirred with possible solutions to his injury. “Okay, Iacopo, how long ago were you shot?”

“I don’t know,” he answered. “A long time ago.”

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Iacopo shook his head. “Just my leg.”

“Can you feel my finger down there?”

Iacopo shook his head again. Lottie caught the attention of a trainee medic, a runner. “I need synthflesh and any sort of anesthesia you can get me.”

“We’re out of both,” the trainee replied, his voice shaky.

“How are we out of both?” Lottie said exasperatedly, her voice on the verge of turning shrill. The trainee only shrugged, making Lottie roll her eyes. “Are they going to get more?”

“It’ll be an hour before they’re back with supplies. I’m sorry, Miss Reynard.”

“Lottie,” she corrected, heaving a sigh, before glancing at the man’s leg again. With synthflesh, she could at least cover up certain parts of the wound temporarily before a new leg could be created; without it, she was left with only one option. “We can’t wait for supplies. What kind of herbs do we have?”

“I’m not sure, I can check.”

“Try thyamin, or ylatan. They’re numbing agents. And bacta, loads of it.”

“What are you gonna do?”

Lottie glanced toward her patient, and then towards the trainee. “I’m going to have to amputate his leg. We don’t have an hour to wait for supplies, the infection could spread.” The child’s mouth widened, but Lottie continued, “Get me whatever alcohol you can find, get one of the soldiers to give it to you if you need it, and a belt. And then I’m gonna need a saw, typical surgery supplies, and another medic. See if Tel-Alum is free.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Lottie, I told you. Go now, we don’t have time to waste.” Lottie lowered her voice before addressing him again, “And don’t sound so scared in front of a patient.”

“You’re Lottie Reynard?” Iacopo formed a semblance of a smile as Lottie began to prepare herself for the task at hand, dressing the wound and getting cloth for a tourniquet.

“Yes.”

“I joined up because of you.”

The statement made Lottie’s head perk up. “Really?” she asked. “Why?”

“I saw your poster and uh, well, none of us knew the Empire treated prisoners that way. You look a lot different.”

Lottie gave a short laugh. “Well, my clothing hasn’t really changed, has it?” She gestured to her blood-stained scrubs. “I suppose I don’t look much better either, especially on a day like today. But they do feed me here, and they don’t torture me, so that’s a bonus. I don’t really know what else to say. Thank you, I guess, and I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“Well, it’s your first battle and you get blasted pretty badly, and I’m going to have to do a pretty major surgery here.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I’m going to have to cut off your leg. If we had more supplies, I could probably get away with synthflesh until the larger frigates come in. And unfortunately, we can’t wait for that, or any sort of anesthesia.”

Iacopo gasped. “So-you’re gonna do it without it?”

“Either we cut your leg off right now, or you die, Iacopo. I’m gonna try to numb it up as much as possible, but it’s still gonna hurt like hell. You’re gonna have to be very brave.”

“I can’t feel my leg down there,” he said. “Surely I wouldn’t feel a saw?”

Lottie shook her head. “I’m gonna cut above it.”

“Oh,” Iacopo said, eyes wide with realization. “Will I get a prosthetic leg, then?”

“They’ll make you one on the frigates,” Lottie said. “A...friend of mine had his hand done. I couldn’t tell the difference, honestly.”

Iacopo changed the subject, glancing at Lottie’s face. “Your eye, did they do that in prison?”

“No, that was from an accident when I was a girl.”

“Did that hurt?”

“Yes, very much so. I was blind for a year.”

“Did you have to get a replacement eye?”

“No. My parents couldn’t afford it. Ah! There you are,” Lottie gestured towards Tel-Alum. “Iacopo, this is my friend Tel. He’s got the best hands in the business.”

“Do you want me to stitch up the tendons after?” Tel said, his deep voice deathly serious as Lottie hooked a mask behind her ears.

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to find a place to burn this limb.”

“Wait, this is happening now?” Iacopo’s voice rose in panic as he glanced between the three medics.

“It’s gotta,” Lottie said simply. “Hey kid, what’s your name?”

“Koryin. I have everything you asked for, Lottie. Is vodka okay?”

“Vodka’s my drink of choice,” Lottie said, taking a wiff of the bottle before pouring it into a medicine container. “Godsdammit, I miss drinking.”

“Well, why don’t you?” Tel-Alum strapped his own mask on. “Want me to prepare this bacta salve?”

“While on the job? I’m crazy, Tel, but I ain’t that crazy. What herbs we got?”

“Thyamin is all they had,” Koryin replied.

“Well, then, thyamin is what we’ll work with. Two parts bacta, one part thyamin,” Lottie instructed, pointing to Tel. “Just like mixing a drink.”

“You really miss alcohol, huh?” Iacopo gave Lottie a skeptical look, causing her to roll her eyes.

“Trust me, you’d be able to tell if I was drunk,” Lottie said, giving him a cup filled to the brim with vodka. “This will help to numb the pain.”

“This enough salve?” Tel-Alum held up a large container for Lottie’s approval.

Lottie nodded. “Apply it to the tourniquet area, please.”

“Have you ever actually done this before? An amputation?” Koriyn asked skeptically.

“Funnily enough, I have,” Lottie quipped. “Though, to be fair, not in this setting. Don’t worry, Iacopo, you cut off one leg, you’ve cut off them all.”

“Anyone ever tell you you have a very odd sense of humor?” Iacopo said, making Lottie laugh.

“Yes, actually. Quite a lot-”

“It’s applied,” Tel-Alum interrupted. “We have to go now.”

Lottie nodded, taking the bonesaw from the cart. Everything about her turned deathly serious as she began to instruct. “Tel, hold him down. Koriyn, take his hand. And Iacopo, don’t be afraid to scream, don’t be afraid to pass out. Break Koriyn’s hand if you need to.” She took the cover off the saw, revealing its serrated edge. “And close your eyes. Everyone else ready?”

Her small band of medics nodded, Tel-Alum rubbing Iacopo’s shoulders and Koriyn standing by, scrunching his face to conceal hi

“Iacopo, you ready?”

Her patient nodded, squeezing her eyes shut. “Just do it.”

Lottie nodded toward Tel-Alum, and began to cut. With the first cut, blood flew everywhere and Iacopo screamed, struggling against Tel-Alum’s muscular hands as he pushed him back on the table. Lottie ignored it, cutting through flesh and bone, tendons and nerves until the leg was completely gone at the knee, blood soaking the stretcher and Lottie’s clothes.

“It’s done,” Lottie said, panting as she rested her hands on the stretcher. “It’s done. Great job, kid.”

Iacopo smiled deliriously as Lottie smiled at him, disposing of her gloves and getting new ones. “Tel-Alum is gonna take care of you. I need to burn this,” Lottie said, taking the diseased leg and hiking a small bag over her shoulder, filled with her personal items as she set off. “Welcome to the Rebellion, Koriyn.”

Truth be told, Lottie needed the break, no one questioning as her bloody footprints led away from the medcenter. The emotions and heightened tension of the day had taken her toll, and even though she had already been awake for a very long time, it felt like longer.

She ignored the stares as she walked past the lucky soldiers, some delirious with glee, others fidgeting as they awaited lovers, friends, family lost on the battlefield, still others sitting far away from the others, knees curled to their chest, unmoving. Those who stared were the new soldiers, fresh-faced and romancing the victory, unaware that the horrors of war laying just beyond.

Lottie found a clearing far away from the soldiers, perhaps a mile’s walk, she couldn’t tell. She laid the leg in the middle of the clearing, gathering twigs and grass to start a fire. She fumbled in her small bag for a pack of cigarras and her trusty lighter, lighting a cigarra before throwing it in the small pile, the flames almost instant as the grass began to burn. Lottie heaved a large sigh as she untied the bandana from her hair, letting her curls loose. The clearing was near a small stream, which Lottie was grateful for, throwing first her blood-stained scrubs and then her underwear into the fire, left completely naked and she waded into the stream to clean herself.

She couldn’t see what she looked like, but she could only assume: makeup smeared, face and body covered in blood and dirt. The waist deep water was cold, but the prickly feeling was offset by the sun shining brightly over the planet and the warmth of the fire just a few meters. Lottie basked in it, eyes closed as she stood in the water unmoving, grateful for the chance at a brief respite in the day. 

This break allowed her to finally gather her thoughts. A few truths had come out in the day. First, Jax and Wedge were undoubtedly alive. To be fair, Jax’s job was pretty low-risk; programming droids and splicing into computer systems were not necessarily a life-threatening task on battle day. Wedge’s life, however, was in much more jeopardy as he led the assault on the second Death Star. 

Wedge’s victory, and the Alliance’s, by default, meant one thing though: Luke was most likely dead. She felt it as she saw the Death Star explode, a large fireball in the sky still smoking as she opened her eyes. Jax was right, she was deluding herself into believing he was alive, but delude herself she would. Soldiers needed her to fix their wounds, and mourning for someone who hasn’t even been confirmed dead wouldn’t be any help to them or her. She set to work scrubbing her arms with water, momentarily submerging herself in it so she could get her hair wet, brushing it with her hands to get rid of any grime in it.

Her brief lull in the day was interrupted by the chirp of her comm, resting near her work bag. “Godsdammit,” she muttered, fiddling with it before she saw the number appear on her screen.

It was one she couldn’t identify, which was suspicious on its own; very few people in the galaxy had her personal comm number, and she had all of their numbers committed to memory for emergencies. Most worrying was the fact that the numbers signaled an Imperial comm, most likely from a ship. She may not be able to read well, but she could recognize those numbers, and she instantly knew what it meant.

Vader had killed Luke. Vader was coming. And he was coming for her.

It wouldn’t surprise her if he had gotten the information out of Luke before he died; Lottie was a threat, after all. With Luke gone, nothing was standing in the way of Vader killing the most dangerous woman in the galaxy. And ending the life of the only person that had just slipped from his iron grasp. 

Lottie answered it without a second thought, her high-pitched voice switching to a low growl. “Vader, I will alert  _ everyone  _ you are here, and I just cut someone’s leg off, you think I wouldn’t hesitate-”

“Lottie, it’s me,” said a hoarse, extremely familiar voice over the comm, taking Lottie out of her automatic defense mode and making her drop next to the fire, covering her mouth as a small cry escaped her mouth, her eyes brimming instantly with tears of joy. “It’s Luke. Vader’s dead.”

“Holy fuck,” Lottie gasped, a smile and small laugh escaping despite herself. “Holy shit, Luke, you-where are you? Why are you on an Imperial ship? How did you escape?”

“I don’t know, I’m sending you my projected landing location now. Lottie, I’m bad, I’m really bad-” 

“What do you mean?” Lottie said, her happiness interrupted with concern at Luke’s pained voice. It was a familiar one. All of her patients in the med bay had the exact same tone.

“Something happened-the Emperor-I can’t feel my legs,” he muttered.

“Luke, stay on the line,” Lottie said, quickly putting underwear on and fumbling in her bag for an oversized shirt she packed as a second pair of clothes. “What did the Emperor do? Is he coming?”

“No, he’s dead too.”

“Thank the gods,” Lottie sighed, leaving the fire to burn as she hurried out of the forest to the med bay. “You need to tell me what happened-”

“Lightning,” Luke gasped, the pain evident in his mangled voice. “He shot lightning out of his hands. And Lottie, my head, it feels so fuzzy, I can’t focus.”

“Gods, okay,” Lottie replied, stopping dead in her tracks, gathering her thoughts before she continued. “Okay, okay, Luke, don’t mess with your legs or do anything. I’ll come to your location with supplies-”

“Don’t tell anyone I’m back yet. Please. There’s a body in the ship and I want to bury it myself.”

“What body?”

“My father’s.”  
Lottie was glad Luke couldn’t see her as she broke out into a huge grin. “Luke, stay with me, I need to talk to some people, but I’ll keep you on, okay? Just focus on my voice, alright”

“Okay.”

Lottie filled her bag with medical supplies, instantly being stopped by her superior.

“And just what do you think you’re doing? We need you here, not getting high like your sister,” she said coldly, raising a fine eyebrow.

“I’m not getting high,” she hissed. “I have someone coming in and I may be dealing with electrocution, third-degree burns, loss of memory, a concussion, and possible permanent paralysis and loss of mobility, but please, go ahead and insult my sister and me while I’m trying to save his life.”

“Who is this patient?” her boss responded, taken aback by Lottie’s quick insults.

“Someone the Rebellion won’t want confined to a wheelchair,” Lottie said cryptically. “I have to go.” Without even a second glance, she slung the bag over her shoulder, turning from the med bay and walking quickly towards main camp.

“Gods, Luke,” she muttered, weaving through people, “you’re lucky I love you because I think I just lost my job.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s fine, my boss was a bitch anyways-” Lottie spotted Jocasta and instantly began yelling to her, “hey, Jocasta! If you want a break go into the forest, say a mile from here, and make sure the diseased leg I put in the middle of the fire burns completely. Sorry about that, Luke,” she said again, her voice dropping to a normal volume.

“Diseased leg?” Luke asked skeptically.

“It’s a long story. Luke, with what you’re describing, I’m gonna need help, can I get some people? People we trust?” She double-stepped her way into the raised houses of the Ewok village, frantically searching for Jax’s room.

“That’s fine,” Luke groaned. “Come quickly.”

“I’m so glad you’re alive,” Lottie breathed, knocking on Jax’s door. “I’m going to hang up now. I’ll be there soon. I love you.”

Jax opened it in a sleepy daze, his hair mussed and his clothes rumpled.

“Luke’s alive,” Lottie panted. “But he got electrocuted and I think he could be permanently paralyzed if we don’t hurry. Where are Han and Leia?”

“Down the hall,” Jax said, equally as hurried as Lottie took off, struggling to catch up as he smoothed out his shirt. “How do you know?”

“He commed me. He’s on an Imperial shuttle.”

“Gods,” Jax said under his breath. “What about Vader? I mean, how do we know-”

“Vader’s dead,” Lottie said, breaking out into a large grin. “That absolute monster, that  _ cunt  _ is dead!”

“Don’t fuck with the Fox, eh?” Jax said rhetorically. “Turn this corner.”

“Don’t fuck with the Fox,” Lottie agreed. “Don’t gloat about this in front of Luke, though.”

“Why? Bastard tortured you, he deserves to die.”

“Reasons,” Lottie said cryptically.

“That one,” Jax said, stopping Lottie and jamming his thumb at an unassuming door. “Shit, do you think they’re fucking?”

Lottie drew breath, scrunching her face in disgust. “Didn’t think about that. Not much I can do now,” Lottie said, knocking on the door.

“Who is it?” said Han’s groaning, deep voice from beyond the door.

“Lottie,” she called. “I need your help.”

“With what?” Han grunted sharply.

“I’d prefer not to say while I’m shouting through the door,” Lottie said, rolling her eyes at Jax.

“Definitely fucking,” Jax whispered. Lottie’s muffled giggle was interrupted by Han opening the door she was leaning against, making her stumble into his bare chest.

“Gods, woman, what are you doing?” Han said, pushing Lottie back onto her feet.

“Sorry, I’m tired,” she muttered, gaining her balance. “It’s Luke. He’s back, well, will be, but I need your help. I think we’re dealing with temporary paralysis, and if we don’t deal with it, it could result in permanent, or worse.”

“Okay, so-where the hell is Leia?”

“Out, she’s dealing with the battle.”

Lottie shrugged, turning to Jax. “Guess we were wrong. Alright, get Leia and then get to Luke’s room, get a stretcher there and ready. Jax and I will bring Luke over there. Oh-and tell a medic you need an IV drip. And get dressed, you look terrible.”

“You don’t look much better,” Han countered.

“I’ve actually been doing work. Go, go, we need to leave right now.” Lottie tugged on Jax’s arm as she led him out of the village, pulling out her comm and allowing a map to lead her.

“Is that where we’re going?”

“That’s what Luke sent me,” she said. “Wait, I think I see it.” Lottie pointed to an Imperial shuttle on the descent in Endor’s atmosphere, getting rapidly closer.

“Lottie, get out of the way!” Jax yelled, pulling her back as the speeder landed in the clearing, the wind knocking them both back on the ground. Lottie stood as the wind began to stop, various smoke coming out of the ship as the landing was completed.

“C’mon,” Lottie said, turning to Jax and then turning again as the ship’s doors began to open, “Let’s go get our boy.”


	27. Chapter 27

Lottie could feel a knot in her stomach rising almost in time with the opening of doors and extension of her ramp. She couldn’t place what she was feeling, a mixture of adrenaline, excitement, but mostly nervousness. What would Luke look like? Worse, was this all a trap?

Thankfully, her worst fears were not confirmed, Luke was completely alone as the smog from the exhaust cleared. Luke limped off the ship, holding the wall as a railing. He seemed to fade in and out of consciousness, not acknowledging Lottie or Jax’s presence beyond a simple glance. 

“Jax, take my bag,” Lottie said, deathly serious. “Do you know how to set up an IV?”

“Fairly sure I do, yeah,” Jax responded.

“Go to the room,  _ now,  _ and make sure everything is set up. He’s much worse than I thought, we’re gonna have to be quick.”

Jax nodded, and took off, leaving Lottie to rush to Luke, throwing his arm over his shoulder as she began to support his weight.

“Hey,” she said lightly, forcing a smile and brushing his hair out of his face as she began to walk. “We’re so close to where Han and Leia setting up, we won’t have to walk far.”

“It really hurts,” Luke moaned.

“I know, baby,” Lottie cooed. “Hold onto the support rails, we’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“I can’t focus on anything, nothing feels real-”

“Just hold onto me, okay? We’ve just gotta make it to the room.” Lottie took a quick glance behind her. Just barely masked in the moonlight was Vader’s body, still cloaked and masked, albeit his suit heavily beaten. Lottie gave a small smile, her canines just grazing her bottom lip. “There’s a step here,” she pointed out as their feet landed on the soft grass. “Okay, there’s no railing, so you’re gonna have to-”

“Lottie, I’m gonna pass out.”

“You’re gonna what?” Lottie said urgently, her voice rising an octave in panic.

“It’s my legs, they’re gonna-” Without another word, Luke fell in her arms, Lottie just barely catching him, her body leaning over his.

“Fuck,” she muttered, glancing to the stairs to the small Ewok rooms a few meters in front of her. Their room was close, but not that close. She would have to carry him. With a groan, she moved to pick up his legs, wasting no time in moving as Luke lay limp in her arms.

Luke was hardly a large man-he was considered short for most Human males and his body didn’t carry any extra weight save for muscle. Lottie, however, was significantly smaller than him and her own strength was just barely touching what it was. It didn’t help that she could feel her body fatiguing with every step-a day and a half awake with barely any rest did not help her present situation.

_ You escaped from prison on a broken foot and a malnourished body,  _ she thought to herself.  _ This is nothing. _

And it truly was. She felt adrenaline take over, her mind barely registering stares and whispers as she made it up the steps, turning sharply to the room they had set up for treatment.

She kicked the door open, the wood slamming against the wall as she lumbered into the room, laying Luke’s unconscious body down on the pallet mattress.

“Close the door,” she ordered, breathless as she bypassed Jax to the nutrient drip, setting it to the right levels.

“Holy shit,” Jax muttered. “You carried him?”  
“Didn’t have much of a choice, now, did I?” Lottie asked rhetorically, automatically checking for a pulse and putting a hand on his forehead. “No fever,” she announced to no one in particular. 

“Is he unconscious?” Leia asked, concern rising in her voice as she fidgeted with her earlobe.

“Yes. That’s fine for now. Help me take his clothes off, we need to get this drip into his system and see what kind of burns we’re dealing with. Gently, now.”

“Jax said you think he was electrocuted,” Han said, immediately setting to work.

“I don’t think, I know,” Lottie said, piercing Luke’s vein with a needle and starting the IV drip as soon as they had taken his shirt off. “Shit,” she whispered, tracing over a scabbing mark on his torso. “They really did a number on him. Alright, did you get the bacta out of my bag?”

“Of course,” Leia said, handing her a tub.

“Good. Leia, could you mix this together here? It should help with the scarring but I think we missed the window on fixing up these wounds completely. Luckily, none of them that I can see require stitches-wait, what the fuck?” As Luke lay naked except for underwear, she inspected his body and nearly stumbled back as she saw a burn on his leg nearly fully healed save for a slightly raised red line tracing up his thigh.

“What is it?” Jax said.

“These burns on his leg, they shouldn’t be at this stage. This is two to three days of healing,” Lottie murmured, tracing the line with her little finger. “I think his body’s healing itself.”

“It’s what?!” Han asked, incredulous.

“I mean, is it that hard to believe?” Lottie asked. “All of these burns and cuts are already scabbing-look! This one here, it’s closing up, you can see it.

“Woah,” Jax breathed. “That’s some heavy shit.”

“Yeah,” Lottie said, smiling despite herself. “Alright, well, I guess I should-”

Lottie’s voice caught in her throat as Luke’s eyes opened wide, taking a large gasp of air before his pupils rolled to the back of his head, suddenly shaking violently as saliva dripped from his mouth.

“What the hell is he doing?” Han yelled, Lottie instantly reaching for a large needle in her bag.

“I was afraid this was gonna happen. He’s seizing.” Lottie did not explain further as she poured a liquid into the large syringe, flicking it with her fingers.

“What do we do?” Leia panicked.

“I need to stop it,” Lottie said, moving intently. “Hold his legs.”

“What are you gonna do?”  
“Hold his legs,” Lottie said again, climbing onto the bed, one knee pinning down each of his struggling wrists as she aligned the needle with Luke’s sternum. “Sorry, Luke,” she muttered, before slamming it down in his chest, squeezing the liquid through it before releasing it, his body going eerily still.

“Is he alright?” Han said.

“Give it a minute,” Lottie murmured, tilting her head, eyes unmoving.

The next thirty seconds felt like hours as the room waited, collectively holding their breath. The silence allowed for Lottie’s body to feel woozy for just a moment, clutching the mattress for support as she leaned ever so slightly back. She closed her eyes, willing herself to focus.

Almost as soon as her eyelids closed, they were jarred open by a gasp from her patient, sitting bolt upright. Lottie screamed in surprise and fell backwards, clutching her shirt. 

“Is he alright?” Leia’s brow furrowed in confusion, Lottie regaining her breath as she sat up.

“I don’t know. Luke?” Lottie said tentatively, raising her eyebrows. “You okay?”

Luke looked confused, dazed, as he glanced around at the faces staring at him. He blinked quickly as Lottie gently brushed hair from his face, his eyes focusing on her.

“Hey,” she said softly. “It’s me.”

“Lottie,” Luke breathed, reaching out to touch her hair gently. “Why is your hair so wet?”

Lottie’s incredulous laugh came slowly, and then all at once, wiping tears for her eyes as she threw her arms around him. Luke buried his head in her chest as his arms similarly wrapped around her waist.

“I took a bath,” she explained, still laughing. “You commed me while I was bathing.”

“Oh,” Luke replied, his voice muffled against her shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Lottie said, running a calming hand through his hair. “It’s okay.”

They remained like that for what felt like an eternity, and Lottie only briefly aware that everyone in the room probably knew something was going on between them, if they didn’t know already. In truth, she didn’t care; he felt good in her arms, warm and real, even though his skin was burned and bruised. He was home.

Their embrace was broken by a loud cough from Han. “Shouldn’t you be, uh, doing your job?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yes, right,” Lottie flushed red, getting off the bed to take the tub of bacta from Leia. “Thank you, I, uh, I really should-”

“Hey Han,” Luke said, completely unfazed by Han’s sarcastic comment. “Leia, Jax. How are you guys?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Han said. “Good to see you again, buddy.”

“You too.”

Their ensuing conversation came to Lottie in fragments as her mind went into the now-familiar fuzz. She absentmindedly clutched Luke’s hand as she wandered in and out of consciousness, reciting the familiar mantra in her mind to center herself.

_ Ist duion aim Nadezhda Dorchester. Tuvos rinneavez negadh, apas fait. _

“Hey, Lottie, you okay?” 

Lottie blinked briefly at Luke’s concerned voice. “Yes, of course,” she said quickly. “Hey, everyone else, can I talk to you outside for just a moment?”

She ushered the small group outside. “Will you please go to the med tent and tell them to get him onto one of the main ships as soon as they arrive, he’s going to need a brain scan and there’s not much else I can do for him here. Thank you. And Jax-hang back for a moment?”

Han and Leia nodded, walking away as Jax took a step towards Lottie.

“You’ve been acting really odd, Lottie, are you okay?” Jax said.

“Tell the med tent separately they’ll be two patients in this room. I’m going to pass out from exhaustion in about five minutes-I’ve been up for a while and I don’t think lugging Luke to this room helped me any. Tell them to do a complete scan for any sort of concussion and that we may have a possible paralysis on our hands.”

“Okay,” Jax said, crossing his arms. “Now?”

“Yeah, now, dipshit, go, we don’t have much time.”

Lottie shooed him with her hand, and then turned back, walking into the room.

“Hey,” she greeted again, sitting next to Luke, massaging his hands with hers. “How are your legs feeling?”

“Better,” Luke said. “If I can go into a healing trance, I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not even going to ask what that is.”

“Good,” Luke replied. “I don’t think I could explain it to you at this exact moment.”

“What about your memory? What can you tell me about...well, you, I guess. Where are you from?”

“Tatooine.”

“Good. Where are you now?”

“The forest moon of Endor.”

Lottie hesitated, and then asked, “What’s my name?”

“You go by Charlotte Reynard, but your real name is Nadezhda Dorchester. Your parents called you Lolli.”

Lottie broke into a small smile, kissing their joined hands. “I think you’ll be alright.”

“Me too,” Luke said. “You’re a really good nurse.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Lottie said. “And I’m gonna pass out soon. I’ve been up for a very long time.”

“Me too,” Luke repeated. “Do people know about-”

“No one knows about Vader,” Lottie said. “Beyond the people we trust.”

“Okay,” Luke said. “Good, that’s good.”

Lottie smiled meekly, looking at their joined hands. “You came back for me.”

“I promised, didn’t I?” Luke squeezed his fingers around hers.

Lottie returned his smile, giving a short, small laugh. Luke opened his mouth to say something again, but she didn’t hear it.

Her five minutes were up. She lay across him, her mind thinking of nothing as dawn broke on the forest moon of Endor.

* * *

 

Lottie wasn’t used to waking up confused, but nevertheless, she was. Her mind was clouded from waking, and in fact, she couldn’t even remember what woke her in the first place. She was still on Endor, she gathered, the wooded walls of the room somewhat familiar even in relative darkness. It was early in the morning, she gathered, the dark was that pre-dawn shade of blue. She sat slowly, rubbing at her eyes, before she had a jarring reminder of what exactly woke her up in the first place. A huge  _ baroom  _ sound shook the room, and then a flash.

“No,” Lottie whispered audibly, suddenly very awake as she scrambled to get the covers off of her, carefully placed by whomever had put her to bed. 

“Lottie! Lottie! Hey, it’s okay,” Lottie didn’t even notice Luke before, but his chair was suddenly empty, the light from his datapad left sitting on it. He held her arms steady, giving her a reassuring gaze. “It’s okay, it’s okay-”

“They’re bombing us,” Lottie panicked. “Luke, we gotta go-”

“Lottie, no one’s bombing us,” Luke said, holding her down as she tried to get up. “It’s just fireworks.”

“Fireworks?!” Lottie asked. “What kind of bomb is that?”

“They’re not bombs,” Luke repeated, letting her go and opening the window’s curtains. “Look. The soldiers are just putting them on for show.”

Lottie furrowed her brow, pulling her shirt down as she stood to look out of the window. “Oh,” Lottie said, as another firework went off, exploding into a pattern of colors. “Oh, you mean  _ feautrine d’artlaines _ . I haven’t seen them since I was young.”

“Pretty, huh?”

Lottie scrunched her nose. “I don’t like them. Two things I hate, large fires and loud sounds. Especially ones that sound like a bomb-what are you doing standing?” Lottie said suddenly. “What are you even doing  _ here,  _ I thought you were at the med bay-”

“They released me,” Luke explained, holding his hands up. “I’m okay, except for a few burns and scrapes. Oh, and I’m technically not supposed to walk anywhere if I can avoid it.” He cocked his head to a chair hovering just at the foot of the bed. “I got one of those fancy auto-chairs. Just for a day, anyway.”

“I’ve been asleep for a while then, haven’t I?”

“A whole day,” Luke replied. “I showed my face at the party and left to make sure you were alright.”

“Why are you holding your hands like that?” Lottie continued, gesturing to his hands raised in what seemed like defense.

“You just seemed...on the offensive,” Luke said. “Are you?”

“No, I was just scared by the  _ feautrine d’artlaines.  _ I’m fine.”

“Oh,” Luke said. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Luke suddenly took her face in his hands, pulling her into a passionate kiss. Lottie quickly put her hands around his neck. She felt her legs almost melt, tongues once awkward in exploration now almost perfectly synchronized, so much implied just through one embrace. Their night before, the various other encounters almost seemed fake compared to this; everything else had a definitive time limit, while this kiss was unhindered by time, emotions, anything.

Lottie broke apart, breathing heavily, her face still inches from his. “Woah,” she said, giving a small laugh. “What was that for?”

“I missed you,” Luke said simply, twirling a strand of her hair in his fingers.

“You should go on suicide missions more often,” Lottie jested, causing him to laugh. “We should also probably close the door,” she added, motioning with her head to the door propped ever so slightly open.

“Oh. Right,” Luke said, breaking apart to close the door. “It was getting so humid, I-”

“It’s alright,” Lottie said, waving her hand. “I just didn’t want anyone seeing us making out.”

“Yeah, neither do I.” Luke said, the bedroll sinking just slightly as he sat on it.

“Speaking of,” Lottie began, sitting next to him, “Wedge and Jax already know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Luke breathed. “They’ve already made their visit to berate me.”

Lottie gave an awkward laugh. “Sorry,” she said.

“No, it’s alright. It was inevitable anyways,” He gave a long sigh. “I think Han and Leia might suspect something too, but they’re being much more, ah, discreet about it.”

“Yeah, I got that feeling too,” Lottie said. “Gods, we are  _ bad  _ at hiding this.”

“Terrible,” Luke agreed.

“You’d think, y’know, you being a Jedi, me being an assassin,” Lottie shrugged. “I guess we’re both pretty new to this.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“How’re you feeling?” Lottie asked, abruptly turning to him.

“Oh, I already told you, I’m fine, I just-”

“No, I mean, how’re you  _ feeling _ ?” Lottie asked. “You went through a lot.”

Luke shrugged, turning away from her. “I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “I’m happy, of course, because for once we might actually have a shot at winning this war. And my father, Vader, when he died, he was a good man. He saved me from the Emperor.”

“I never thought I’d be thankful for that bastard,” Lottie quipped, taking Luke’s hand in hers.

Luke gave a short laugh, and continued, “But the Emperor-Gods, I almost turned to the dark side because of him. And the things he did, the lightning,” Luke paused. “I thought I was gonna die.” 

Lottie rubbed small circles on the top of his hand. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“I had a funeral for him. My father,” Luke said. “It was while you were asleep.”

Lottie nodded, coughing awkwardly. “Is he gone?”

“Yeah, I suspect his body’s burned by now,” Luke said. “I’m sorry, I know you probably don’t like hearing about him like this,”

“No, it’s alright,” Lottie said. “I don’t mind. I just...I want you to know that I don’t think I have the ability to forgive that man.”

“Nor should you,” Luke replied. “The things he did to you were horrible.” Light began to break through the window as he paused, the fireworks long silent as the sky turned to a light blue. “You never talk about it,” Luke said. “What he did to you.”

Lottie shrugged. “No need to.”

“Well, if you want to, you know I’d listen.”

Lottie smiled, getting up and leading him to the other side of the bed. “Yeah, I know. Let’s watch the sunrise,” she said. “Then I can go get us breakfast.”

“I have an apple in my bag if you want it. A real one, too,” Luke said, gesturing to his chair.

“Seriously?!” Lottie asked, her eyes lighting up in excitement.

“Yes, seriously, you adorable person,” Luke said. “I brought it back for you.”

“I love you,” Lottie said, kissing him quickly before grabbing the apple and sitting back down next to him.

“I might have to leave soon,” Luke admitted. “They want me to read this report, and all this-”

“It’s alright,” Lottie said. “When can we meet again?”

“Dinner?” Luke asked.

Lottie raised a playful eyebrow, taking a bite of her apple. “Are you asking me on a date, Luke Skywalker?”

“I am,” Luke replied, his voice equally playful.

“I accept, then,” Lottie said. “You know, I’ve heard of people having sex on the first date, but before the first date-” Lottie laughed as Luke nudged her, turning red.

“I hate you,” Luke said, his voice conveying the exact opposite.

“Yeah, I know,” Lottie said, Luke wrapping his arm around her shoulder as she rested her head on his shoulder, the sun glorious in its colors as Endor finally quieted, the birds the only sound as the day began.


	28. Chapter 28

“I’ll have you know this date saved my arse,” Lottie said, walking hand in hand with Luke as they walked to set up a spot to eat in the forests of Endor, far away from the base camp. It was just approaching the end of the day, the sun beating out its last rays. “Today’s been all meetings, or if not that, dealing with drunk Wedge who insists on hitting on every woman who happens to be so unlucky to stroll by him.”

Luke laughed at that. “Yeah, I noticed that last night too. Has he been yelling about the Death Star to them too?”

“Oh yeah. That’s his main drawing point. ‘Come sleep with me, I blew up the Death Star! Again!’” Lottie rolled her eyes after her impression of Wedge. “I love him, but he’s impossible sometimes.”

“I agree.”

“Well, it’s good to see you walking about again!” Lottie said, changing the subject from their friend.

“Yeah, I made a trip to the med bay and apparently I’m nearly healed, I’ve just been told to apply lotion and bacta to the burns, y’know, that sort of stuff.”

“Being a Jedi has its perks,” Lottie said, smiling at him. “This place looks good, eh?” She pointed to the spot where she had previously rested a few days before, just at the base of the creek.

“Yeah, this is nice,” Luke agreed, setting his stuff down on the ground before laying out a blanket from his bedroll. “What food could you grab?”

Lottie rummaged through her bag. “Well, I made sandwiches, but I don’t promise they’re any good, the food here is kind of picked over. And I know I’m supposed to be off alcohol, but-” Lottie pulled a bottle of wine out of her bag, making Luke laugh, “I figured I could cheat a bit.”

“That was never gonna work, was it?”

“Oh, c’mon. We’ll barely get tipsy with this stuff if we split it between us.”

“Well, I got some cookies from one of the meetings I went to, but I can’t promise they’re not stale,” Luke said, pulling some hastily-wrapped cookies.

“I will take any cookie any day,” Lottie said. “Sandwiches first, though.”

“Right. We’re not heathens,” Luke said, deftly catching the food she tossed him.

“What’s a heathen?” Lottie said, mouth already full as she poured generous amounts of wine for both of them in almost humorously plain cups.

“It’s like, someone who doesn’t believe in the Gods or something. I guess here it means someone who doesn’t follow the rules.”

Lottie laughed, covering her mouth. “I’d say we’re heathens, then. We are in the Rebellion, after all.” She took a gulp of wine, sighing as the fruity liquid hit her mouth. “Mmm. That is so good.”

“I’m not a big alcohol guy, but seven months without wine sounds like the definition of hell,” Luke admitted. “We should toast.”

“To what?” Lottie asked.

“To the end of the war, hopefully,” Luke said. “And to us.”

“That sounds really lame, but alright,” Lottie said. “To us. And the end of the war.” The two clinked glasses, Lottie heartily taking another drink.

“Cheers.”

“ _ Slante _ ,” Lottie said. “That’s how we toast on Coruscant.”

“ _ Slante,  _ then.”

“It’s so weird that it’s almost over, right?” Lottie said after a brief pause, looking out at the still water. “Or that it could be.”

“Yeah, it is. Even on Tatooine, it wasn’t like we didn’t have a war, it’s just that no one cared much what side we fought on. If we won though,” Luke sighed contemplatively, “I mean, what’s it gonna be like? Peacetime?”

Lottie shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, war is all I’ve ever known. Hell, war is the reason I’m alive in the first place.”

“It’s probably gonna be weirder for you than it is for me,” Luke said, moving to lay on the blanket, propping himself up on his side.

“We should put on some music,” Lottie said suddenly, turning to her datapad. “I haven’t had a chance to just listen to music in forever.” She chose a song, a slow, soulful tune. The singer’s baritone voice warbled in the humid air as the two lay on the slope near the river.

“This is a nice song,” Luke commented, after a while.

“Mmm, isn’t it?” Lottie said, putting her trash in her bag and smoothing her dress of crumbs. “I’ll have a cookie now, please. And more wine, sir,” she added playfully.

“Of course, madame,” Luke said, equally playful. After he gave her the food she wanted, he paused for a moment, and then turned to her again. “So what do people usually do on a first date?”

Lottie sighed. “I mean, I don’t know. I worked in a brothel and I’m related to Pazima Reynard, so I think I know a hell of a lot more about sex than romance. I think people like...get to know each other or something? Ask questions about your life?”

“Oh, okay,” Luke said, both of them laughing at the absurdity. “Yeah, I mean, I hardly know you.”

“Practically strangers,” Lottie agreed.

“I mean, is there anything innocuous or boring about you that you need to tell me?” Luke said, looking at Lottie over the rim of his cup.

Lottie laughed, shaking her head. “I mean, I don’t know. My favorite color is pink-”

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

Lottie playfully swatted his arm, continuing, “-I like swimming. Oh, I know how to sail a boat.”

“Really?!” Luke asked, genuinely surprised. “Who taught you?”

“Pazima. The Xuhiri really value sailing, I guess, it’s a huge part of their culture. So she taught me on Alderaan.”

“Mmm,” Luke said, nodding. “Well, I don’t know how to sail, I barely know how to swim,” Luke said, making Lottie laugh. “But, I really like rain. And my favorite color is orange.”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Luke Skywalker,” Lottie said, raising her eyebrow.

“You too, Lottie,” Luke said, and then his voice turned serious. “What do you wanna do? After the war, I mean.”

Lottie shrugged. “I dunno. I’ve been a nurse or a medic my whole life, so I’ll just keep doing that, I guess. Or cook or something. That’s all I’m much good at. What about you?”

“That’s not all you’re good at!” Luke protested, nudging her with his arm.

“Oh, yeah, I’m good at twirling a sword about too, people  _ really  _ love that-”

“What about dancing?” Luke asked. “You’re an amazing dancer.”

“I could never make much money off of that,” Lottie blushed as she answered his question. “‘Sides, I’m too shy, I don’t like dancing in front of people.”

Luke thought for a moment, and then stood up, promptly holding out a hand to her. “Dance with me.”

“What?!” Lottie said, taken aback.

“You put on music, c’mon, dance with me. I haven’t seen you dance since you came back.”

“Well, alright,” Lottie said, finishing her drink before accepting his hand, standing up. His hand reached effortlessly around her waist as she rested his on his shoulder, their free hands locked together.

Luke liked to complain that he was a bad dancer. And sure, he certainly wasn’t like many of the men she had danced with at Horrificus, or even as good as Wedge or Jax. Yet there was something about just swaying with him to the beat of a slow song that was just as, if not more satisfying. He reached out twirl Lottie, laughing as she fell into his arms.

“Sorry I’m not a very good dancer,” Luke said, as if on cue. “I’ll blame the wine.”

“You’re a perfect dancer,” Lottie said sweetly. “I’d take you as a dance partner any day.”

“Well, thank you,” Luke said, nodding ever so slightly.

“You didn’t answer my quesiton, though,” Lottie pointed out.

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“What are you gonna do after the war?”

Luke sighed, looking away from Lottie as he thought. “Well, I don’t know. I’d like to be a teacher of sorts, I guess. Find Force-sensitive kids and teach them. It’d be good to pass it on and have these kids have some place to go, y’know?”

Lottie moved her hand from his shoulder to trace his cheek, smiling at him, his eyes lit up with enthusiasm.

“What?” Luke asked.

“You’re the best person I’ve ever met,” Lottie explained. “I love you. And it doesn’t hurt that you’re cute, too,” Lottie added.

Luke deftly moved to kiss her forehead, the two of them continuing to dance until Luke spoke again. “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you too,” he began.

“Oh?” Lottie raised an eyebrow. “Well, go ahead, then.”

“Well, you remember what you promised me a few nights ago?”

“I think so, yes,” Lottie laughed. “I thought you wouldn’t remember, though.”

“Why wouldn’t I remember?” Luke asked, taken aback.

“Well,” Lottie said, but then shook her head. “Nevermind. It isn’t important.”

Luke furrowed his brow, but continued. “Anyway, you said that you’d marry me if I asked when I came back alive, correct?”

“That is something I said, yes,” Lottie said, smiling despite herself.

“And you also said you needed to get back to your house soon or else you’re gonna have to pay a lot of money, right?”

Lottie sighed. “Yes, that is also, unfortunately, a thing.”

“Well, Nadezhda Dorchester, sometimes called Lolli or Nadya, mostly called Lottie Reynard, you have too many names already. It’s honestly appalling. But I’d like to ask you, Nadya, if you’d like to add one more. Mine. Like now. We can leave now.”

“Now?” Lottie said.

“Yeah, I mean, we’ve still got a few years of war ahead of us, so I’d like to get married as soon as possible.”

“Could we stop to get our stuff? Cause that’s pretty important-”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Luke said, catching onto Lottie’s lively tone. “But then after, what do you say? Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Lottie said, not hesitating a moment. “Yes, of course I will.”

Luke laughed, almost in disbelief, stopping to dance to squeeze Lottie into a hug, both of them laughing and grinning.

“I don’t know why I was so nervous,” Luke said, his eyes just slightly tinged with tears as they pulled apart, his voice tinged with almost uncontrollable laughter.

“I don’t know either,” Lottie said, equally as joyful. They kissed again, more smiling than kissing as Luke picked her up off the ground, Lottie squeaking in surprise, and then landing on her feet again.

As they embraced once more, Lottie looked out onto the river. If you looked just right, the view was unblocked by trees and the green went on for miles, forever, never-ending. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE FOX SQUAD WILL RETURN IN
> 
> "A CHANGE IS GONNA COME"


End file.
